1100 Silver Coins
by phoenixspuzzle
Summary: There was one girl at Hogwarts that Tom Riddle hated with a passion greater than he hated his muggle father or his weak mother – the Head Girl. Tom Riddle is angry and ambitious. Vera Sinclair is spoiled and manipulative. The two collide.
1. The Best of Enemies

Tom Riddle hated everyone at Hogwarts. He hated all the insipid Gryffindors who were always making too much noise, the pretentious Ravenclaws, the useless Hufflepuffs, and the mindless Slytherins. But there was one girl at Hogwarts that Tom Riddle hated with a passion greater than he hated his muggle father or his weak mother – and unluckily for him, this girl happened to not only be a Slytherin but also be the Head Girl to his Head Boy in their seventh year.

Vera Sinclair was absolutely insufferable. She had spent their previous six years laughing at Tom and making every possible joke she could in his direction. And now she was sitting across from him in the prefect's compartment of the Hogwarts train on their ride to school and smiling that sickly sweet little smile of hers – the same one she had used to charm other boys into doing her homework or throwing a party for her to attend.

"Nice seeing you again Tom. How was your summer?" She smirked as he pursed his lips, "Oh right, the orphanage. Well, you should be thrilled to know that I had a wonderful summer. My parents gave me a few thousand galleons and let me go off adventuring in Italy."

He smiled stiffly, "Wonderful Sinclair. Now, shouldn't we discuss something important? Like our duties this year?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Naturally, you won't expect much from me. You do think I am stupid after all, though I did beat you at OWLs. I'll show up to meetings and patrols – but of course you wouldn't expect me to obey the rules myself."

"Being Head Girl is about setting an example."

"And you do set such a good example being Head Boy. A antisocial, withdrawn psychopath who spends all his time in the library researching magic and sucks up to the teachers and is always spewing his horrid views on blood purity. We do need more of those at Hogwarts. I wish I could be as good of a role model as you are," she said sarcastically.

Tom fumed, but knew he couldn't do anything. Vera was the queen of the school. People practically worshipped her - they moved out of her way in the halls, did everything she asked, looked at her with reverence, and spoke about her often. Vera Sinclair was everything everyone else (including Tom, as much as he hated to admit it) wanted to be – rich, alluring, smart, and capable. And she was not just a regular pureblood – she came from a very elite group of extremely ancient pureblood families who practically ruled the wizarding world, their ranks full of Ministers of Magic, authors, business owners, and media moguls.

So Tom sat through the part of the train ride where he and Vera had to instruct all of the other prefects. Once the other prefects were gone, he stood and walked off without another word to her. He vaguely wondered which compartment full of admirers she would retreat to, which seventh year boys she would decide to grace with her presence on their first day of school. As soon as he reached the compartment of his followers, he pushed all thoughts of insolent little Vera Sinclair, who clearly could not keep her mouth shut for two seconds and had no idea what was good for her, out of his head and focused on his plans for the upcoming year instead.

"And Vera was on the corner kissing some boy, like she didn't want anyone to see, so I..." Of course Regulus was talking about Vera right when Tom walked in. Just his luck.

"Hey Riddle, can you tell him to shut up? He's been gossiping about Sinclair for the last half hour. If I wanted to hear the ramblings of an insanely jealous teenage girl I would get a girlfriend, not put up with you, Black," Avery drawled.

"Shut up. No one cares about Sinclair's new toy," Tom interjected before proceeding to ignore them and their petty little argument about that irritating girl.

Regulus chuckles, "Avery, you're just angry because Vera's got a 'new toy' and it isn't you."

"I don't want to be Vera's fucking toy anyway. That would be pathetic, listening to her just for a little bit of attention."

"Says the person who fetched books from the library for her last year."

"Says the person who did her potions essays for the last year," Avery mocks.

"Says the person who offered to do them but got turned down," Black responds with a smirk, "And this is coming from the person who actually went on a date with her last year, so how about you consider shutting up Avery?"

Tom rolled his eyes at them as he picked up a book. Stupid boys falling for Sinclair's little trap as usual. It seemed like if she just smiled at someone they would do anything she said. But not him. Never him. Tom was too smart for that. He had known Vera for seven years, and he knew she was an absolute devil.

Avery chuckled, "She hasn't even said a word to you yet, has she?"

Black glared at him, "So what? It isn't as if she..."

"She said hello to me as she got on the train," Avery commented smugly.

"Would you two both just shut up?" Tom commanded.

Black said, "I will when he realizes that Vera doesn't even..."

"For Merlin's sake! If you two are so obsessed with her, go and bother her with your incessant conversation. She's in the prefects compartment."

The two boys glared at each other for a second before Avery stood and headed for the door. Black shot up, trying to get in front of Avery by shoving him. Tom rolled his eyes and began reading again. Seconds later, the compartment door slammed open again. Tom looked up and saw the devil herself.

"Mind if I sit here? Apparently you're 'friends' are looking for me, and I'd prefer not seeing either of them," Vera said, not waiting for an answer before she walked in.

"Well, they'll just come back here when..." Tom fumed as Vera locked the door and shut the curtains with a flick of her wand. She sat down on the bench in front of the window and stared off into the distance as if Tom didn't even exist.

"Haven't you got some boys to go and copy summer work off of?" He sneers.

"I can do my own goddamned homework if I want to," When she saw Tom raise an eyebrow, she smirked and said, "I've already got a few Ravenclaws working on my essays."

He tries to blackmail her, "Sinclair, you know academic dishonesty is frowned upon. Imagine if Dippet heard that you didn't write your own essays."

She smiles bitterly, "Dippet isn't exactly fond of people who launch curses at first-year mudbloods either."

Tom narrows his eyes at her. Did she just threaten him? She just turns away, resting her head on the window sill instead. A few seconds later, he hears the doorknob giggle. She doesn't react, but just to spite her he uses magic to unlock the door. Regulus and Avery burst in, yelling at each other for a few more seconds before they each realize that Vera is sitting there.

Regulus grins, "Hey Vera! How was your summer?"

Avery shoves past him to try to sit next to Vera. Instead, she moves her legs over elegantly, making space for Regulus to sit next to her. She smiles as she says, "It was fine. Quite boring really."

Avery chuckles, "Yeah, Italy and France and America and who knows what other countries. Those all sound quite boring."

She smirks, "I know. You wouldn't believe how many things are closed in all of those places at 2 A.M. Couldn't even get a decent croissant in Paris."

"Well, I imagine Paris doesn't have many witches stopping by for coffee and shopping at 2 A.M," Regulus interjects, thinking he's being clever.

She continues acting as if it's completely normal to go out at 2 A.M., "That's simply ridiculous. It's Paris. I want to live somewhere where I can go out in the middle of the night if I want to and everything will be open."

"They should make such a place, because the amazing Vera Sinclair should get everything she wants." Regulus says with a smirk.

She nods before saying, "Quite right. How was your summer Avery?"

Avery perks up as soon as she says his name, softening his eyes as they pass from Regulus to Vera. He smirks as he begins to answer. Tom stands, glaring at Vera. He had actual business to get down to, and now she was distracting his followers and preventing him from getting anything done. Plus he had to hear that sickly sweet voice of hers and see that fake smile and witness her tricking his two best followers into falling for her little act.

"No need to get up Riddle," She said, smirking at him as she stood, "I have some _work_ to do anyway."

Avery and Black both frown as she walks out. Tom slams the compartment door on her and then turns back to them, starting the discussion about their plans for the new school year.

Vera pays nearly no attention to Tom while she guides the Slytherin first years on their tour of Hogwarts after the Sorting Ceremony and feast. She yells out information about each location to them, starting at the Astronomy Tower, the location of their Astronomy classes. She works her way slowly down the floors, not giving Tom a chance to comment as she goes over everything. Most of the first years look up at Vera in awe, amazed by this older woman who seems to know everything and who makes jokes every few minutes and who acts as if she's queen of the school. A few first years occasionally look back at Tom curiously, wondering who the sulking boy.

When they finally reach the Slytherin common room, Vera leans down so that she's at eye level with the first years.

"Now, don't tell anyone from the rest of the houses this, but you all are very special," She says, sounding as if she's telling a story, "You want to know why?"

She waits for the little first years to nod before she smirks, "It's because you all are in Slytherin. Slytherin is the best house. Only the most pure of blood can be in this house. Even though the Ravenclaws may think they're smart, we're really much smarter than them, because we've got something to go along with our brilliant minds – we've got cunning. And even though the Gryffindors may think they're brave, we're really much more determined. Those Gryffindors just stand for everything they're told is right. But us Slytherins, we've got our own minds, and we make our own choices. Don't believe it if someone tells you this house is bad – they just can't think for themselves. Is that clear?"

All of the little first years nod again.

"We're also the ones with all the ambition. We wish to achieve great things. And we will, because, as evidenced by our being sorted into Slytherin, we are great wizards and witches. We are the house of greatness – great ambition, great determination, and great power." Her smirk grows as she says, "And there's also one other thing about Slytherin that's special this year."

The first years wait in suspense as she stands up fully, a charming smile on her face.

"I, Vera Sinclair, am Head Girl. And Tom Riddle," She gestures to him as she says his name, "is Head Boy. So the next time someone tells you that there's no one good in Slytherin, remind them that the two best students at Hogwarts are in your house. The password for the common room is Viper. Goodnight."

The students walk in to the now visible common room (several bricks moved to show the room when she said the password), still enchanted by her words. She remembers her own feelings when she entered Slytherin, knowing it was what her parents wanted from her but also feeling embarrassed by the fact that every other student she had met on the train had called her new house evil. She hoped she had ended any doubts within the first years about their new home.

Vera glances at Tom. His face is still like stone, that same disapproving look in his eyes that he had when she first walked in to the prefects compartment on the train. She doesn't much care – Tom Riddle is exactly the kind of staunch, academic-focused person that would disapprove of her and her parties, boyfriends, and adventures. She'd won over the other prefects, assuring them that she was not just a pretty party girl, and her behavior had been looked upon as almost something to aspire to for the last three years. Even those who didn't want to participate knew that Hogwarts would not be the same without her. But he'd always been the one who would skip the parties in the common room (most organized by her) and tell her to go to bed if he caught her out with a boy on a night she wasn't schedule to patrol and threaten to report her when she had others do her classwork.

He could at least admit that she was fit for her position as Head Girl. They'd been competing to be at the top of their class since the first day at Hogwarts. They'd both been prefects since fifth year. He'd "saved" the school from the monster last year, but she'd saved a group of curious first years from the forbidden forest, a bunch of rouge Quidditch players from the Whomping Willow, and some drunk fourth years from the Giant Squid. And that was just last year. She _deserved_ to be Head Girl; but that disapproving look in his eyes showed that he thought exactly the opposite.

She doesn't say anything to him as she turns and walks through the common room. Tom Riddle can think whatever he wants to think about her. At least she's actually having some fun.

Tom glares at Vera as she walks away. Her hand stitched robes, made of imported silk and Italian wool, flash behind her, the last thing he sees before the wall of the common room shuts. She was such an insolent brat, flaunting her money in front of him. And she's so very arrogant, thinking she even deserves to be Head Girl. She's spent all of her years at Hogwarts acting on every silly idea she could imagine, not doing actual work or learning anything at all. He, on the other hand, has already made advancements in magic half of these stupid professors can't even imagine – especially Dumbledore.

Vera is so very silly. Thinking it's important to have fun. They weren't in school to have fun, they were in school to learn. He sincerely hoped he would beat her for top of their class. It would just be an embarrassment if he didn't beat someone like her, what with her Quidditch boys and firewhiskey and reckless endangerment. She had so many distractions that it was amazing that she hadn't failed out yet. But he supposed that was due to the fact that she never actually had to do her own work.

When she'd glanced up at him before leaving, he'd recognized that look in her eyes. She always looked at him like that. Like he was inferior, because she was the only one in school who'd figured out he was a half-blood and raised by muggles, and she loved it. She loved making jokes about. She loved suggesting it in front of other people to scare him into thinking she'd tell them. She loved talking about things she knew he would have no clue about because of his filthy childhood in a muggle orphanage, or his _sad little upbringing_, as she so derogatorily called it.

He stares at the spot she was standing in and thinks, Vera Sinclair is absolutely insufferable.

He walks off to find some Gryffindor first year to torture.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I have decided to post this because I have a much better grip on the storyline for this story than I do for my other one. Also, I think it will make it easier to avoid writers block if I write multiple things at one time. If you like this chapter, don't worry, a new one is in progress and will be up in about a week. Also, if you _really_ like this chapter, please go to my profile and check out my other Tom Riddle story, which will be updated in 1-3 days. In addition, I will be posting the first chapter of an Oliver Wood/OC story soon.

By the way, the title is an allusion! I'm really curious as to if people can figure out what it's an allusion too, as I had to do some research to get it. There was a few alternate titles in my head, but I decided to try this one first.

Please review if you have any questions/comments/constructive criticism/kind words! Thank you for reading :)


	2. Familiarity Makes the Heart Grow Tired

Vera Sinclair sighed as she walked toward the headmaster's office.

She had somehow managed to avoid Tom Riddle for a whole week, and she was not very happy about having to speak to him again. She suspected he wouldn't be very happy about seeing her either, and not simply because of their natural animosity towards each other – she had skipped Tuesday's patrols, and Thursday's too, and she had _allegedly_ sabotaged his potion and caused it to blow up during Friday's double potions lesson.

Anyway, due to the luck of Slughorn missing the first week of school for a "family event" (hard to believe the man had any surviving family), Vera was able to avoid being partnered with Tom Riddle against her will for at least a week. This, combined with her attempts to arrive just early enough to lessons that there would be more than that one seat next to Tom Riddle empty and her insistence on never spending more than five consecutive minutes in the common room or library, had stopped them from..._clashing_. Or, more appropriately called, attempting to curse each other to another planet and become snake animagi so that they could poison the other without being detected.

Really, this little rivalry was becoming very tiresome. It was taking Vera's attention away from her "I am the most important person in the world time" - which involved generally acting pompous, pampering herself in the prefect's bathroom, and shopping for more clothes – which she saw as such a major issue she was almost willing to give up and admit that Tom Riddle would always be a little bit better at magic than she was. Not that she would ever _really_ admit that, but she had contemplated the idea. And then promptly gagged and realized that if she continued thinking such things, she would have to admit herself to the insane ward of St. Mungo's.

All in all, a Heads meeting was the last thing that Vera needed on this particular morning. Did she need a spell to remove that speck of dust that was bothering her off her silk cloak? That might brighten her day a little. To find her Transfiguration book? Would be nice. Someone to write her Herbology essay? Could come in useful. A hangover potion? Definitely. Seeing repulsive Riddle and demented Dippet at the same time? Most unquestionably not.

Insolent filthy half-blood prick, scheduling a meeting at 8 A.M. the morning after the first common room party of the year. He _knew_ this was the equivalent of absolute hell for her. She would have to get revenge. It struck her that they hadn't had a public duel yet, and they were already a week into the school year – that wouldn't do at all.

* * *

><p>Tom Riddle smirked as Vera Sinclair walked into the headmaster's office, five minutes late, hair ruffled back, and looking suspiciously like she had just woken up on the bathroom floor with a killer hangover after last night's common room party. Served her well. Hopefully the headmaster would finally catch on to her delinquent behavior and take away her badge.<p>

As soon as Vera noticed that Riddle was looking at her, she straightened her hair with her hands and put on a fake smile. She sounded almost pleasant as she said, "Good morning Headmaster. Morning Riddle."

The headmaster smiled. Tom felt a pang of jealousy as he noticed this smile was much more genuine than the one he had gotten when he'd entered. Stupid Dippet didn't even realize that his star pupil was an irresponsible mess. Or that his other star pupil was a dark wizard, Tom thought with a smirk.

Dippet yelled from his private rooms behind the desk she was currently seated at, "Good morning Vera. Coffee?"

"Sounds fantastic. Tom here only told me about the meeting ten minutes ago in the common room. I hardly had time to change, let alone have breakfast," she says the last part with a bitter smile that the headmaster easily confuses for joking, while Tom knows it's just her listing off the reasons she's going to be an absolutely horrible to him today. As if she normally even needs a reason.

The headmaster turns to pour her a cup, while Tom, out of the corner of his mouth and quiet enough that the headmaster won't notice, says, "Oh boo hoo, Vera didn't get her french toast this morning. We all better watch out. Because french toast is definitely the most important part of you're day."

She smirks as she answers in the same fashion, "Don't worry, I'll just have one of your little minions fetch me something from the kitchens. You'll excuse me if Avery happens to be late to Transfiguration."

"Don't you dare get Avery another detention. We have plans."

She grins, "Oh really? What kind of _plans_?"

He almost blushes. Almost. "None of your business."

"It's okay Tom, nobody will be surprised if you're a pansy," she says, faking a kind smile as if she's really concerned about him, "You don't have to hide your true self anymore."

Yes, he does. Otherwise he just might end up killing her on the spot. Not yet, he tells himself. He will get his revenge one day, but not yet.

Dippet walks back into the main room, finally taking the seat behind his desk after handing Vera a cup of coffee. She takes it and starts sipping thankfully.

"I have called this meeting not only to welcome you both to your seventh year, but also to discuss an...issue that has come to the attention of the teachers in the last few days. It appears as if one of the first year students has suffered a mental breakdown. Madame Hale has come to the conclusion that it is possible that the student in question was simply stressed by the change of setting and, as her memories suggest, there is no fault on the part of other student's. However, as the student was a muggleborn, I thought it might be pertinent to ask if either of you have noticed any of your housemates acting oddly."

"Why would you think they would be?" Vera asks with an innocent smile, as if she herself doesn't realize that Slytherins are famous for hating mudbloods.

"Good question Ms. Sinclair. Even though the official position of the school is that the student simply had a few panic attacks, I wish to make sure there is no possibility that another student could be responsible for this."

"Well, of course none of the students in our house would do such a thing," Vera says, confidence practically falling out of her voice, "Torturing first years? They wouldn't dare. No offense headmaster, but I am quite sure you are making more of this than is necessary. The transition to school life can be very stressful, especially for those who have not yet been exposed to many magical people. If you would like, I would be honored to _mentor_ the student."

The implication in her voice is that no one in her house would sink so low. First years? They could at least aim to torture someone who knows how to do a decent shield charm. Tom felt bitter at the suggestion. He'd only gone with first years because they had such simple minds – much easier to test out his legilimency skills with changing people's memories on them than to go for a seventh year right away. And now he knew exactly which seventh year would be the victim of his first use of the cruciatus curse (his new favorite) on school grounds.

Dippet smiles after a second of thinking, looking just as dull and complacent as usual, "You have brought me to my senses Vera. Perhaps I was thinking a bit too much into things, but after the attacks two years ago...well, I wanted to be sure, and you have assured me. Thank you for your attentiveness during this meeting. Now, you both may go. Enjoy your breakfast."

They're quiet the whole way to the Great Hall, each detesting the fact that they have to walk next to the other. As soon as Vera walks up to the Slytherin table, she yells, "Avery!"

He turns and immediately knows what she wants. He's already saved a plate of french toast and blueberries for her, along with a cup of orange juice and her usual coffee (two sugars, just a bit of cream). Avery barely even notices Tom walking behind her, which irritates him further. She smiles gratefully as she takes the seat next to Avery, starting on her breakfast.

Tom suppresses a sigh and glares at her, in his rightful seat between Avery and Black, before sitting across from Avery. She scoffs and nearly spits out her food when she sees him.

"What are you doing here Riddle?"

"Eating breakfast Sinclair. Really, I thought you were brighter than that," he comments, as on edge as she is.

"Well, I figured you at least had the goods sense to have breakfast before coming down to the common room to spring the fact that our first Heads meeting was in ten minutes on me. But now I realize the mistake I made – I actually thought you had _any_ sense."

She levitates her plates abruptly (wandless magic, he notices), landing them on the end of the Ravenclaw table, where a boy looks up surprised before smiling at her as she walks over.

"Typical Vera," Avery comments, "Who's that Ravenclaw?"

"Quidditch captain," Black answers, "Guess that means I shouldn't even bother asking her to Hogsmeade again."

"Never should have bothered at all," Riddle mutters angrily while sipping some juice.

Avery suddenly chuckles, "What do you think her Hogsmeade gimmick will be this year? Remember last year, when she said that whoever bought her the most candy from Honeydukes could take her to Hogsmeade in December? I spent 20 galleons on chocolate frogs alone! What did she ever do with all those sweets? Certainly doesn't look like she ate them."

Regulus shrugs, "Heard she donated it all to the children's ward at St. Mungo's."

"By Merlin, Vera Sinclair has the ability to be _charitable_! This ought to deserve a Daily Prophet article," Avery says with a hint of sarcasm.

For a fleeting moment, Tom Riddle thinks that perhaps Vera Sinclair isn't all _that_ bad. He catches the thought as it passes through his psyche and mentally admonishes himself for daring to think that Vera won't have some surprise up her sleeve later today as payback for that Head meeting this morning. Little does she know that he has his own surprise up his sleeve, and this one could be far more dangerous.

* * *

><p>The surprise up Vera's sleeve appears later that day in potions when, a few minutes after she mysteriously passes by and almost <em>accidentally<em> knocks over his cauldron, his potion blows up, expelling a cloud into the air. When the cloud finally dissipates and he manages to cough enough to be able to breath again, he sees his reflection on the cauldron.

His hair is pink. **Bright** pink. Like the icing on a cupcake, which, may he note, he hates.

Tom turns to Vera, fully intending to crucio her right there and then, even if there's a whole class of witnesses. Or maybe he should imperio her and make her turn her own hair bright pink. See how funny she thought it was then.

At the present moment, she was nearly keeled over on top of her chair with laughter. He could hear giggles and chuckles around the rest of the room too, but the most prominent noise was Vera's too loud laugh, piercing his ears mockingly.

_Pink_. Pink was a girl's color.

He takes out his wand, but Kettleburn arrives just in time to see the damage and begins spouting out nonsense, all the while trying to suppress chuckles too. Tom promises himself he will get revenge later, still thinking of the wonderful image of Vera Sinclair gasping for breath and twitching on the floor of one of the empty rooms in the dungeons after he crucio's her.

Too bad Slughorn still isn't back, otherwise he'd surely think this deserved a detention or two. Of course Professor Kettleburn, who is babysitting the class today, doesn't even know that Vera did this. Tom insists she did, but Kettleburn won't believe him because he doesn't see a reason for Vera to do such a thing to a fellow student. Vera offers Tom a fake smile and says that she could try to fix his hair color, if he'd like. He shrugs her offer off, figuring that she'll probably make all of his hair fall off next, and heads to the hospital wing instead.

As soon as he arrives, Madame Hale looks at him with a disapproving frown, "Surely, Mr. Riddle, you must have a good reason for distracting me from my ill patients."

He _hates_ his muggle father's name. For a second, he wants to curse her just for using it, but then rethinks the wisdom of such an action. Instead, he puts on a small, timid smile and says, "I was hoping you may be able to reverse the color of my hair."

Her eyes soften, "Oh, it's just a silly little potion. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. It will go away by tomorrow."

Silly little potion his arse. He did not want to go around with pink hair all day. "But _surely_ there must be something you can do to fix it."

"There probably is, but I haven't got time to research it. Kettleburn thought it wise to send his first years into the forbidden forest earlier this morning, so I've got quite a few broken legs and rolled ankles to take care of. I would suggest that you simply ignore your hair color, and it will be gone before you even think of it again."

Ignore this? Ignore his _bright pink hair _which is hanging right in front of his eyes? How was he supposed to ignore this? He'd rather cut all of his hair off than have to go around like this all day. He tries one last time, "Perhaps you could just take a minute to -"

He's cut off with an exasperated sigh, "I think you ought to go Tom. You might be late for your next class."

* * *

><p>Tom Riddle is fuming as he walks up the staircase, flanked by Avery and Black, and thinking of ways he can dethrone Vera Sinclair. Sadly, he's coming up pretty much empty.<p>

"Oh, stop mopping," Vera says, surprising him by appearing behind him just as he reaches the second floor. She leans up on her tiptoes and taps her wand on his head, quite painfully may he add, but he doesn't really feel the hard whack of her wand. He's more shocked by the feeling of her hand on his shoulder as she tries to hold herself up long enough to mutter the spell, a considerable effort because they're nearly a foot apart in height. He's more focused on the fact that he can hear her saying the spell, almost like she's whispering in his ear. He feels inexplicably dizzy for a minute, but then rationalizes it down to the fact that she must be cursing him with a mild stunning spell.

She smiles before slinking away. As she's walking away from them, toward the dungeons, she yells back, "There, all better now. If I knew you hated pink so much, I just would have dyed all of you're sheets that color. Now I'll have to buy some more dye during the next Hogsmeade trip."

Pulling at a strand of his hair, he's shocked that its actually back to it's normal inky black color. What was the point of her doing this if she was just going to reverse it? Oh right – just to get a rise out of him, like always.

"Aren't you going to class?" Avery shouts after her.

She turns her head back, shooting them a wicked smirk over her shoulder, "I have _better_ things to do. Things that are much, much more fun than sitting in a musty room and taking notes."

* * *

><p>Tom slips out of class early, glad that it's Ancient Ruins instead of Transfiguration and the old professor won't notice that he never came back from the bathroom. He follows Vera's path toward the dungeons, thinking it's finally revenge time.<p>

"This is you're better thing to do?" he comments as he enters the common room, seeing Vera comfortably laying on the couch, a book covering most of her face, her hair tossed back casually.

"Yes, it is," she responds, "Skipping out on classes Riddle? May just break you're perfect reputation."

He sits down in the armchair across from her, staring at her ominously. After about a minute he says, "I was the one who did it. Drove that student crazy. I used the cruciatus curse."

Tom doesn't know why he suddenly feels the need to confess to her. In the back of his mind, he knew that she was the only person who would probably be completely unaffected by the revelation – and, oddly, that makes him want to tell her all the more.

She doesn't even look up from her book, doesn't even flinch. Her voice is even as she says, "I already _know_. Why else do you think I'd convince Dippet that it couldn't possibly be a student while you sat there frozen? If you aren't Head Boy, the post is bound to be given to someone more annoying – probably that insolent little Gryffindor who would never leave me alone during fifth year."

He's surprised that she even thinks there's anyone more annoying then him. Somehow, he actually did expect this to change things. Expected it to scare her into submission. He nearly whispers, "So, you aren't scared of me?"

"Why would I be scared of you?" she spits out the last word, as if even the idea is so disgusting she can't stand to have it on her tongue.

"Because I can do an unforgivable."

"Anyone can do an unforgivable if they really want to."

"So you could do an unforgivable?"

"Of course."

He conjures up a spider and places it on the table between them, "Do it then."

She takes a fleeting glance at the spider before shrugging, "Not exactly a hobby of mine."

"You're too scared to do it."

She smirks, "Have you ever known me to be _scared_?"

He pushes her further, challenging, "You are now."

She laughs as she puts down the book and looks at him, "Scared and unwilling are two very different things."

"Do it or I'll curse you."

She looks down at the spider, a fake frown on her face, "Don't think I will. Pesky little monster doesn't deserve it. Just like you didn't deserve to get magical powers, half-blood."

She knows she struck a cord. If he's going to crucio her, he might as well do it with his full anger, right? She would have thrown a few more verbal punches, but he didn't give her the chance.

He raised his wand, that one word he loved so much forming on his lips, "Crucio"

She immediately felt like a thousand searing knives were piercing her skin. But she just laughed. It was such a nice change to the feeling of _nothing_. For a few months there, she had felt like she wasn't even alive. But this was proof. If she could feel pain this intense, she must be alive.

She gasped for breath as she leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes. Tom Riddle was powerful, but she was sure she could match his strength with her own. She could match his mind with hers. So she wouldn't give in. She wouldn't scream like she knew he wanted her to, or shudder and beg him to stop. No, she would give no sign of the pain.

He stopped only because he thought he might have killed her. And for some reason, this made him feel afraid. He had no idea _why_. He had killed before. Yet, he was almost panicking as he sat there, waiting for her to open her eyes again. Surely, she would open her eyes. Surely, it wasn't possible to kill someone with the cruciatus curse. He had read a hundred books on the subject and that had never been mentioned.

A slow smile spread over her face before she opened her eyes lazily. She lounged against the couch, as if she had just woken from a pleasant dream.

"You're turn," she said in a low, hazy voice that he was almost sure he had only imagined. That is, until she flicked her own wand and mouthed the same word he had said only seconds earlier.

He immediately felt like a thousand searing hot knives were piercing his skin – and something else, something that made him feel a pain dissimilar to any he had ever felt before, a pain he was sure the cruciatus curse couldn't cause because it was much more mental than physical. It was a smell – like freshly cut lavender and rich soap – that he oddly recognized. Jarringly, he realized it was how she smelled in the mornings, after she'd just emerged from the prefect's bathroom. But there was something else with it – he felt like someone was running their fingertips along his arms, his shoulders, his collarbone, his jaw – even though, when he managed to screw his eyes open wide enough to look across the room, he saw Vera lazily sitting on the couch, her wand poised between two perfectly manicured fingertips.

He too didn't scream. He just shuddered at the odd feeling encompassing him, causing a pain in his chest which was not at all familiar and which, he feared for a second, might be a heart attack. To be killed by such a muggle thing was unimaginable. She giggles lightly at the look on his face before dropping her wand. As soon as she does, he can open his eyes and stare at her, still lounging there as if she's in a spa.

They're both still breathing heavily as she says, "Thought you should know what undergoing your own torture would feel like. And, for Merlin's sake, stop making it so obvious. I could really do without having to speak with demented Dippet every other week about students going insane."

"If you call him that what do you call me?" he asks, accidentally letting his curiosity get ahead of him in this rare moment after the pain when they have both let their guards down and put their wands away. It almost feels as if they're confiding in each other, which he knows is a mistake, because this is the same girl who has set out to make his life hell since his _"filthy, half-blood, orphaned"_ self first stepped onto the train to Hogwarts.

She smirks, but her eyes are far away, distant, as if she hasn't even noticed his presence. Her voice is full of malice as she admits, "Oh, that depends on my mood. This morning it was repulsive Riddle. Sometimes it's raggedy, ratty, redundant, rigid, rotten, ruddy, rude - I really am amazingly adaptive to the situation. And what do you call me?"

"Insufferable." And it isn't nearly as painful as all of these things she just listed off to call him, he thinks.

"You are quite right with that one," she stands suddenly, walking toward the girl's dormitories. At the last minute, she turns and throws him the book she's holding, "You would think that was interesting."

He catches the book, looking down at a copy of Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes by E. Limus. It was the book in which he would end up finding a spell that allowed him to create multiple horcruxes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Not sure how I feel about this chapter. So review and tell me how you felt, to help me work on the next update. Action will speed up soon, as this part is still introduction instead of the real story. There will still be a few chapters of pure hatred between them, and I'll try to think of some funny ways to annoy Tom Riddle. Next update will be around Sep. 3rd.

There's going to be a lot of these kind of poignant moments of understanding between them. Most will involve silence instead of explanations, though Vera's words here can apply to most of the story, "I already know." They may be enemies, but, as the last moment showed, they know a lot about the other person. Both Vera and Tom don't really open up, so these moments of silence, of relative peace, are the moments where they're really connected. Where they sort of realize this same dormant anger that lies inside them both – this need to just be _better_ that connects them. In the end, they're both extremely selfish and feel a need for power, it's just their upbringings that separate them.

* * *

><p><strong>Anonymous:<strong> I like the first chapter of this story more too, because it is more action orientated. I was going to do the same kind of thing for Riddle and his Spinhx and start in their fifth year, but I realized that story really did need a lot of background. There may be flashbacks to some particularly painful moments for Tom and flashbacks for Vera to develop character. What do you think of that?

I kind of disagree about Vera not being equal. I do imagine her as being equal, or just a tiny step down, as far as it comes down to regular magic. Tom is more powerful when able to use dark magic, just because he is more willing to do permanent damage. I think the major distinction is their motivations: Tom is being driven by his need to be powerful, Vera is just entertaining herself. So, naturally, Tom would be more driven to learn about and develop his magic, which does give him an edge.

I hope I fixed the problem with picking on younger children. Thanks for pointing that out. I just went with first years thinking he would just love the terrified looks on these children's faces who had barely even witnessed magic before. Promise that he will pick on someone his own age in the next chapter, though with what results I cannot yet reveal.

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><p><em>Thank you for reading :) Please review if you have any questionssuggestions/kind words._


	3. Gemini

_Note: I know that in the books Snape invented Sectumsempra, but I had to alter that for the purpose of this story._

Truce over. They're back in public now, and Vera can't very well go around telling people that she and Tom Riddle almost had a heart-touching moment after they used the cruciatus curse on each other. And even if she did, no one would believe it – she and Tom, very nearly getting along? That day would only come after they both decided to surrender their magical powers and live as muggles forever. Which would, naturally, be never.

"Professor Slughorn, I'm sure that, after so many years of Riddle and I being partners, we could benefit better from diversifying who we work with – perhaps I could help one of the Gryffindors," Vera said, carefully towing the line between pleading and reason. It was Tuesday and they were back in Potions, along with Slughorn, who had once again assigned Tom and Vera as partners. Vera had been verbally objecting to that for the last five minutes. The fact that she was even suggesting she have to deal with a Gryffindor for an extended period of time showed how desperate she was. She couldn't very well go around sabotaging Riddle's potions again if she had to stand right next to him when they blew up or bubbled over.

Slughorn, who had just returned from vacation looking like a very exuberant old man (and perhaps a bit fatter than usual), smiled, "I see your point Ms. Sinclair, but I would hate for either you or Tom to be bored with a partner who does not operate at the same pace. I must place my two most proficient students together in this case. Now, everyone, if you would kindly move to sit next to your new partners."

As the rest of the class shuffles about, both Vera and Tom stand their ground, adamant that the other person move over to their table.

"Move Sinclair," Tom commands from his position two rows behind her.

"Move Riddle," she commands right back.

He sighs, obviously exasperated, "I already have my stuff set up, so move."

She scowls, "Well, my cauldron is much more expensive than yours and it would be a horrible waste if I dropped it -"

"Enough Ms. Sinclair. Move your things," Slughorn says, cutting her off. When she huffs and levitates her things to Riddle's desk, he chides, "I didn't say you could use magic!"

"This is a school of magic, isn't it?" She replies as if she's utterly confused. The professor's face reddens, knowing she's teasing him. She takes a seat next to Riddle triumphantly.

"How are you doing, half blood?" She whispers, quietly enough for no one but him to hear but loudly enough that he's just afraid they might.

"Worse now that you're here Sinclair."

"Oh, you do hurt my feelings so," she says, putting her hands over her heart as if feigning pain, "Trust me, if I had a choice I wouldn't be."

"Now, please start working on you're Draught of Living Death," Slughorn adds at the end of his lecture. He sees Vera in the back of the classroom, setting up her own cauldron, and feels the need to add, "Together, Ms. Sinclair."

She sneers over at Tom but doesn't say anything as she begins slicing the shrivelfig.

Tom stands there for about a minute waiting for her to acknowledge him before speaking up, "He said we have to work together."

"Then make yourself useful and start the flame." He turns to his cauldron, but she speaks up again, "I won't be made to use you're cheap pewter cauldron. We'll be using my cauldron. It's silver and self-stirring."

He rolls his eyes. She moves over just enough that he can get to her cauldron and start brewing the potion.

* * *

><p>It's Thursday and he's waiting for her outside of her Ancient Studies class. Normally, he would scoff at any boy doing such a thing. But he had something to speak to Sinclair about. Something he had read in that book she had thrown at him. He had been trying to speak to her at meals and in the common room, but it seemed like she was avoiding him.<p>

He's leaning against a wall when he sees some boy walking up. A Ravenclaw. Owen Davies. He saunters up and immediately asks, "What are you doing here Riddle?"

"I don't believe it's any of your business Davies," Riddle replies, sizing him up.

The boy obviously thinks he's a genius when he remarks, "Know anyone in this class?"

Tom smirks, "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Anyone other than Vera?" Davies sneers back. It suddenly clicks in Tom's mind. Vera's new plaything. Of course. He doesn't honor the boy with an answer, just glares at him. "Vera doesn't want to see you, so leave."

Tom's still smirking as his acid tongue kicks in, "How long have you know her? All of two weeks? Don't think you're the one to say what Sinclair wouldn't like."

"A deaf and blind man can tell that Vera doesn't want to be around you."

"Well, unless I'm mistaken, you aren't Vera Sinclair, are you? So kindly shut your mouth and move on."

"Leave."

He sneers, "No."

"I told you to leave."

"I told you to shut up."

"Leave."

Tom flicked his wand lazily at him. He was quite tired of this stupid boy. It was just a little stunning spell. Wouldn't hurt much more than hitting his head on the stone floor. Unluckily for Davies, he deflected it. This really made Tom mad.

Before he was quite aware of why this had all happened just because of some little thing about insufferable Vera Sinclair, Tom was in a full out duel with Davies. Of course, Davies couldn't match his power, so he was really just leaning against the wall to lazily block Davies curses and throw a few of his own back, waiting for the boy to get tired and leave like a dejected puppy.

"Tom Riddle, you will stop cursing my boyfriend right this second, or you'll be dealing with me instead," Vera's cold voice resounds through the empty corridor, overpowering the sound of the door banging shut behind her.

Boyfriend? She had actually called this dolt her boyfriend? It might be fun to annoy her, so Tom took a more active interest in the duel. He smirked as he thought of a nasty little spell he had learned straight from that book Vera had leant him. The irony would be amazing.

"Sectumsempra!" He shouted, not allowing the fact that Vera was starting to take out her wand distract him from his intended target, the annoying Ravenclaw boy's face.

Davies immediately collapsed, falling on the ground and screaming in pain. He had tried to doge the curse, but it had only got his chest instead. He was bleeding profusely, a visible pool spreading from his gashes and starting to stain the stone floors.

Nevertheless, Vera's full attention was on Tom Riddle, as they pointed their wands at each threateningly but neither took the first shot.

"How in the bloody hell did you learn that spell?" She finally shouted. He smirked, knowing her anger meant that she hadn't been able to get it. At his lack of a reply, she hissed, "And what on earth drove you to curse Davies?"

"Oh, he's just Davies now? Thought he was your boyfriend Sinclair," Tom sneers back.

"Why do you care what he is?" They continue their staring contest for another few seconds before she sighs and says, "Suppose I may as well help him. Pathetic, not being able to protect himself in a duel against you for more than five minutes."

Tom watched as she walked over, her heels clinking loudly against the stone floor. Davies was struggling to stay awake, making some kind of awful gurgling noise. She rolled her eyes as she kneeled down next to him, slowly starting to run her wand over his cuts as she was saying the counter-curse.

The boy finally managed to gurgle, "Why are you being mean Vera?"

"I am not being mean. Slytherins aren't mean. Rude? Selfish? Hypocritical? Yes. But we can do so much better than mean."

Unluckily, the boy seemed to regain his full capacity for speech, "You said I was pathetic."

"Oh, shut up and stop crying. How long have you known me? All of two weeks? I doubt you're in love with me or anything."

"I was in you're DADA class since first year."

She seemed confused, "Really? I could've sworn I'd never spoken to you before this year."

"I did you're Divination work in third year."

"Oh, that was you? Well, that was rubbish. I expected more from a Ravenclaw." At this, Tom chuckled. Just like Sinclair to be so unrelentingly vicious at a moment like this. She just whipped around to face him, "You're hardly one to talk Riddle. You may as well leave. Don't worry, I'll obliviate his memory when I'm done."

"Obliviate my memory? Shouldn't you be running to Dippet's office?" Davies called out.

She laughed, "Darling, it's considerably funny that you think I would rather defend you than make sure I don't have to deal with some useless Gryff as Head Boy."

"I thought you finally liked me."

"Oh, you thought I liked you? Cute. Seriously, haven't heard that since third year. Wait, now that I consider it, that might have been you back then too. Anyway, you should really go for something more in line with my goals – like, you wanted to shag me, or, you thought I had a nice body. By the way, Riddle, leave!"

He smirks, "Why? This has proved to be a very interesting argument I've induced."

Davies managed to glare up at him, trying to match her commanding tone as he said, "Shut up and leave Riddle."

This only increases Tom's amusement, "That didn't work before Davies, and I doubt I'll be listening to you at the moment given your current incapacitation."

Davies reached for his wand. She sighed again and stunned him. At least this way an argument didn't have to ensue between any of the parties involved. As she predicted, Riddle became considerably less interested now that he couldn't taunt Davies, or listen to Vera taunting Davies, and finally left.

* * *

><p>She walked into the restricted section later, as Tom was sitting on the ground against one of the bookshelves and reading through one of the books on dark magic. Even after noticing him, she casually strolled in and, after picking up one of the potions books, sat down on the ground a few inches away from Tom.<p>

"Didn't think anyone else went here," she said while opening the book.

"Not mad at me about Davies?"

"Why should I be? He's fine. Well, fine expect for the fact that he's probably sitting in the Ravenclaw common room still crying, but that had nothing to do with any curses cast by you or otherwise. One would assume a quidditch player would be less of a complete pansy."

"Well, that's what you get for going for Ravenclaws."

"I also get an extended amount of free time."

He suddenly remembered the question he had for her about the book, so he pulled it out of his bag and opened it up to the page he'd found most interesting. "Look, don't think that I'm even implying that you're intelligent, much less more intelligent than I am, but I have a question..."

"I'll answer it if you teach me how to do Sectumsempra. I spent all summer trying to learn it and could never get it right," she says, turning to him with an eager expression on her face. She saw that he was thinking of saying no, so she threw in, "And then you can have the book."

He nodded and they spent the next twenty minutes with her chanting Sectumsempra at a book to no avail. Exasperated, he muttered, "You have to mean it. Otherwise the magic won't flow."

"That would explain it. I don't think I was exactly itching to tear up my mattress. My new rug, perhaps. Hmm...who do I really hate? Well, apart from you. I know – Madame Pince. That would definitely motivate me to destroy one of these books."

She pointed her wand at a book and focused again. He realized what the problem was and reached out to hold her wrist between his slender fingers, "It isn't swish and flick. You have to twirl it first, and then do a slashing motion. Here, let me show you."

He tried to ignore the heat crawling up his hand as he leaned over and lead her hand in the proper wand motion. She was probably just trying to cast a curse on his arm. This time, the book successfully fell into three pieces.

"Wonderful." She tried it a few times more, satisfied when the book was simply a pile of raggedy paper. She levitated it over to the window and let it float down to the ground, in effect destroying the evidence. "Now, what was your question?"

"Have you been avoiding me?"

"Is it just me, or does that seem to have nothing to do with the book I leant you? Last I checked, that was definitely not a book on social graces, or how to avoid using them. Though I could definitely use a book on that subject."

"No, that isn't the question about the book. I've got another question about the book. But I've just been wondering, have you been avoiding me?"

"I wouldn't say avoiding per se. More like artfully stopping myself from speaking to or being in the same room with."

"Sinclair, that's the definition of avoiding. And why is that?"

"Someone told me you might be a little bit angry at me. Like, planning to kill me and throw my body in the Black Lake to be eaten by the Giant Squid angry. And, as much as I would love to meet the Giant Squid, it seemed wise to graduate Hogwarts first." Well, he had said that at one point to Avery and Black. Right after their first potions lesson together. Right after she had told him that raggedy was not the new black. "So, I guess I just gave you the perfect opportunity to kill me, though transporting my body down to the lake would be a bother. Really, if you're going to do it, I would much prefer simply being disintegrated into ashes."

"If I killed you now, I would never get an answer to my question about the book."

"Oh. So are you going to kill me afterwards? Just curious, because I really do have to revise my will."

"No, I don't believe I am actually planning to kill you. Put you in the hospital wing the next time you refer to me as orphan, half blood, or raggedy Tom? Probably. But you're right, it would be quite a bother getting rid of your body."

"Damn, I just realized I have failed to insult you, and it's already been ten minutes since I've gotten here! I really am slipping."

"Indeed you are Sinclair. Could that Ravenclaw actually have gotten to you?"

"I'll have to go and push him down a few staircases if he did." She suddenly looked back down at the book in his lap, "Anyway, what was your question?"

He realized his mistake quickly – he'd actually been having something akin to a normal conversation with Vera. Well, certainly not normal in the sense of comment, but seemingly friendly in demeanor. He shoves the book toward her, letting her scan it. "It has to do with this page. If, in theory, someone were to do such a thing, would the soul have to be freshly split?"

"I've no clue, but I've got another book about it. You can have it if you teach me to do an adequate disillusionment charm."

He smirks, "Got something to hid?"

She returns the smirk, "You would be surprised Riddle."

"Well, we've managed to agree on something without any curses being thrown. I daresay you're being nice to me, Sinclair."

She looks worried, "You aren't going to tell anyone, are you?"

"I don't think being nice to me will ruin your reputation."

"It would."

"Why would you think so?"

"Because you're a half blood. And don't try to curse me, I didn't mean it as an insult this time."

"You're the only one who knows."

"It's a matter of principle Riddle. And also, everyone knows we naturally want to claw each other's eyes out."

"Naturally."

"Well, I've got to be off. I need to find someone to write those ruddy lines that Slughorn gave me as punishment for talking back in class. You wouldn't have Avery busy with anything, would you?"

"I don't believe so."

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>When Tom finally enters the common room right before curfew, Vera is there, a large group of Slytherins surrounding her. He overhears her telling some story about Paris and getting chased by the muggle police, interrupted by the laughter of everyone around her at her signature sarcasm and wit. He rolls his eyes and continues up to his room, summoning Avery and Black on the way.<p>

After discussing plans with Avery and Black for nearly two hours (those dolts, can't even understand the simplest way to get a mudblood alone in a room), Tom finally trudges back downstairs for a quiet place to do his Charms essay. Vera's there, sitting in the armchair closest to the fire.

"That's my chair."

She smiles bitterly, "I'm sorry. It doesn't have half-blood written anywhere on it."

He's taken aback for a second. She was nice to him just a few hours ago. He reaches for his wand so he can curse her, but by the time he has his wand out, she's pointing her wand at him. "I told you not to call me that."

She flinches for a second before putting away her wand, "Right. Sorry. You can go ahead and curse me now. It might just get me out of class tomorrow."

The word is on the tip of his tongue, but Tom can't force himself to say it. She sounded sincere when she apologized this time. Vera never really sounded sincere. She was always mocking everything that anybody said or brushing off whatever she said as a joke. The anger flashes in him again, but Tom just stuffs his wand back into his pocket and takes a seat in the armchair on the other side of the fire. He starts on his Charms essay, writing quickly. Even a first year could probably write a essay on the Avifors spell in less than an hour.

Tom stops writing after ten minutes, oddly annoyed by the fact that there's no sound in the room. Usually, he would love that nothing was bothering him. But it somehow disturbed him that Vera hadn't made a noise in ten minutes. He looked over to see that she was just staring at the fire, hardly even blinking.

"What are you doing?" He spoke up, unable to keep the critical tone out of his voice.

"Why do you care?" She asks back in a tone that's so formal he could swear she was speaking about what kind of tea he liked.

"You're bothering me."

"How can I be bothering you? I'm not doing anything."

"You're very presence is bothering me."

She stands up suddenly, grabbing her cloak off the side of the chair. She starts walking toward the door, shouting back, "Fine. Hopefully I won't have to bother you again."

Anger flairs up once again because of her sarcasm, and his tone shows it, "What are you doing?"

She stops, half turning back to him, "Going somewhere else of course."

"It's past curfew," he comments.

"So?"

"You'll get in trouble."

"Don't act like you care Riddle."

"Sit down. Just stop being so quite. It's odd." He orders. She sighs but goes back to the armchair by the fire, nearly collapsing into it. He looks over at her as her head falls into her hands, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"That's why you're sitting in a dark common room by yourself at midnight."

"Well, I would prefer if I was actually by myself. Once again, don't act like you care Riddle," she said, voice cold. He went back to his charms essay, she went back to staring at the fire.

"Don't you have work to do?" He asks, temporarily looking up.

"Some Ravenclaw already wrote my Charms essay," she answers nonchalantly. The room returns to silence again as her gaze is directed back at the fire.

"Why did you want to know sectumsempra?" He finally asks, his curiosity overpowering his pride.

"Same reason you do."

"And what do you think that reason is?"

"When you make as many enemies as we both do, spells like that can be helpful."

"I hope you know such a silly little spell wouldn't work on me."

She looks over at him, eyes frozen, "I hope you know I have bigger problems than you, ratty little half-blood." He throws a curse at her. She lazily flicks her wand out, blocking it without even looking up. The duel goes on for a few minutes, neither of them particularly careful about what curses they cast or where they aim them. She finally hits him with one, which just produces a small burn on his upper arm where it impacted. She just smirks and says, "Work on your blocking. I could have easily cast two curses one after another, the first to break your shield and the next to kill you."

"I don't need advice from you Sinclair."

"Really? Your social life, or rather lack of one, would indicate otherwise."

"Not all of us have our priorities completely backward," he retorted coldly.

"You're right, my priorities are totally in line. I will make up a list of them for you so you can see what order your's should be in. Hint: If you want people to think you're sane, world domination should not be anywhere in the top 10."

"I think its time you took a nap," he commented before shooting a sleeping spell at her. Her wand had fallen off to the side, just out of her immediate reach, and she didn't have time to deflect it. Her breathing took the place of her voice; to his surprise it was jolting and shallow instead of deep and calm, almost as if she was having a nightmare. But the great Vera Sinclair had a perfect life – even in her dreams, he would bet. He turned back to his work and managed to have it nearly finished before he felt himself compelled to get up. He decided he could take a break – just a short one, to cast a spell to make the fire a bit warmer.

But as soon as Tom was by the fire, he found himself turning to her – perfect Vera Sinclair, looking perfect in her armchair as she dozed off in her perfect dream world. He examined her face, perfect in its lines, its smoothness, its beauty. And then his eyes drifted downward and instead of focusing on her perfectly portioned frame noticed her hands, boney, clasped together, fingers knotted so tightly that her knuckles were white. Perfect Vera Sinclair was definitely not sleeping well – and somehow this comforted Tom, knowing there was at least one thing about her which wasn't perfect.

He sighed and walked up to his room, grabbing the extra blanket that lay at the foot of his bed and his potions book. May as well make sure the girl doesn't get rapped, given that he was the one who cast the charm...wait, what does he care if she does? She's Vera Sinclair and he's Tom Riddle. He doesn't care about anybody. He doesn't try to take care of or protect anybody. Especially anybody so deserving of a good curse as Vera Sinclair. Then again, he was just doing this for himself. If something happened and she dropped out, he'd probably be stuck with that high-pitched Ravenclaw as Head Girl, and she would be (dare he admit anyone could be more insufferable than very Sinclair?) quite annoying to say the least.

After throwing the blanket over her, Tom plopped back down on his armchair and started reading. He was already 50 pages ahead in the book, but no harm being ahead. He had gained 50 more pages by the time she woke up, yawning and staring at the foreign blanket around her. She threw it off, standing and stretching her arms over her.

"That could be the first half decent thing you've done in seven years Riddle," Vera noted, still just staring at the fire. She grabbed the blanket, walking over to him and handing it over. As their fingers brushed, she made full eye contact with him for the first time all night. He felt a shiver course through him, but she soon pulled away. Tom watched Vera walk back up the girls staircase, noticing her half lidded eyes and tripping steps. Someone needed some real sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know this took forever and I'm sorry, all of my stories have been lagging like this lately. I've been having a hard time finding the time, energy, and private space to write while away at college. I have actually had this written for a while and couldn't even find time to edit it. But I do have a worship-worthy Spring schedule, so hopefully updates will be more frequent from now on. By the way, I will be shooting another chapter at you right after this :)

And don't worry everyone, I am still updating **all** of my stories, updates will just come at a much slower pace over the school year.


	4. Scarred Seductress

Vera was snickering and whispering to some girls a few seats down from Tom at the breakfast table. Snickering was never a good sign, and it was the calm before the storm when Vera did it. Her snickering was like the noise a knife made as it sliced through the air, a warning that it was about to cut your head off.

She suddenly looked up and smiled at him, raising an eyebrow at noticing that he had been watching her and snickering once again. He glared at her before finishing his breakfast.

They just happened to be walking out at the same time. As they both walked toward Defense Against the Dark Arts, Tom grabbed her and shoved her in one of the alcoves behind a statue.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you're up to something," he hissed.

She batted her eyelashes and gave an innocent smile. The look didn't work on her. "I don't have a clue what you could be talking about Tom."

He rolled his eyes at her, "Just know that anything you do will get an equal reaction from me."

"Oh really?" She stepped forward, smiling slyly. Tom felt Vera's breath against his neck and realized how close they were. If he just tilted his head down...no, its best he not be thinking about such useless things. She smirked and teased, "I don't see any equal reaction."

"I can play any game as well as you can Sinclair," he responded.

"Prove it Riddle," she dared, her tone smug. He took the challenge, taking the one step closer that would bring them nearly together, only a centimeter or so of space between them.

Tom stared down at her, his eyes hot with a quiet rage that had been burning since the day they had met. Vera was tricking him and he knew it but he didn't know how and he didn't know what to do about it. Tom Riddle was not a person who did not know things. He made it his business to know things. The fact that Vera could unsettle him so easily, with just a few words...well, it unsettled him.

Vera stared back, her eyes darting around his face, picking up the rage and the uncertainty and the hatred and the confusion and delighting in unsteadying his cool appearance for once.

"We're going to be late to class Riddle," she noted, never breaking the stare.

"Ladies first," he said with a smirk, knowing this was a competition of will.

"No, master, lead the way. You are so much better equipped to handle any threats we may face on our way," she mocked. He felt another twitch inside of him at her calling him "master".

"Lord," he corrected.

"What?" she asked, a look of pure bewilderment on her face. He'd gotten her back.

"I prefer to be called lord," he pressed, enjoying the look on her face for a second before turning and starting to walk away.

"As you say, lord. Anything I as your humble servant can do for you?"

He stopped in place. Her response shocked him yet again. He knew she was being sarcastic, and yet he felt how much he wanted her to mean those words. And the twitch was back, ten times stronger now. He didn't turn, but he did say, "Yes. You can tell me what you're up to."

She leans up on her tiptoes, her fingers gently running across his back in a search of support. As she speaks, her breath brushes against the back of his ear, "Well, lord, we're planning a bit of a celebration party. Not as if you would be interested in that sort of thing though. Oh, and we're burning an effigy of you after the next prefect meeting. Apparently some people feel that you're a bit too prudish. Though that situation may also be resolved soon enough."

She pressed her lips against the spot right behind his ear for a second. Her fingers trailed horizontally across his back now and she slide out from behind him. He watched her walking down the corridor, still frozen in place. What the hell was she playing at? If Vera thought he would be deluded by such primal games she was obviously very simple. Though he'd known that before of course.

* * *

><p>Vera Sinclair is not exactly subtle.<p>

In the same way that changing the desert menu to chocolate mousse, chocolate mousse and more chocolate mousse (her favorite) is not subtle. Or the way making it suddenly start snowing in the Great Hall during a 75 degree day is not subtle. In the same way that provoking a snowball fight in the Great Hall is not subtle. Or charming the candles in the Great Hall to spell out "Tom Riddle is a prude" during dinner is not subtle. No, Vera Sinclair is definitely not subtle.

Though perhaps his favorite touch was the little voodoo doll of him hanging over the common room fireplace. No, maybe it was the fact that she'd tricked countless little fist years into approaching him and asking for directions to the stupidest (and sometimes nonexistent) places. Or the fact that she'd managed to shoot a jabbering jinx at him during History of Magic so that he just couldn't stop talking about troll rebellions. No, actually the potion that turned his skin green for an hour really took the cake.

Perhaps most amazing was the fact that, for all his pleading to various professor's during the day (he'd even spoken to Dumbledore, for god's sake) no one seemed to agree with his assumption that Vera was behind all of these things. Teachers seemed to think he was paranoid – even the headmaster had scoffed when Tom blamed Vera, though Dippet had promised he would get to the bottom of the days events (though perhaps his phrasing was off, as he ended up quite drunk and on his bottom by the end of dinner) – but of course all of the students knew and snickered at each turn of events, congratulating Vera with their amusement.

Tom supposed he really wasn't surprised – Vera was such a conniving twit that he would be surprised if she hadn't been planning something all summer – but what baffled him was why. He tried to think back and honestly there was really nothing he had done, to her at least. Out of all the students, she had the least motive to do this to him. They had been getting along on relatively good terms (in comparison) this year. Every curse he had cast on her had been returned equally, so she had no motive for revenge.

Of course, Tom was angry. That anger couldn't exactly be turned to revenge, as Vera never happened to be around outside of class. Probably very purposefully. It was obvious in the way that she smirked and left whenever he walked into the common room. It had lasted two weeks. Two weeks since the day she had made absolute hell for him (October 18th, he had marked it on his calendar). However, today they had a meeting with Dippet and a patrol afterward, so there could be no skipping out on her part. Today Tom Riddle would get revenge.

They were walking the corridors after the meeting. Dead silence. Five minutes passed before he asked, "I'd at least like to know why you did it."

"What are you talking about?" She said, pulling out that innocent tone again.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about Sinclair. Why?"

"No pretending needed Riddle."

One spell and he had her pushed against the wall, held there by a magical barrier. He was a good few inches from her, yet his hissed words still reached her in the empty hall, "I was just going to let you off with a little explanation and a few temporary curses...but I don't think you're going to get it that easy anymore. I am warning you right now not to try to fight back, because it will be all the worse if you do."

He dropped the barrier, letting her fall to the ground. She didn't bother trying to scramble up, instead taking a seat with her legs crossed in front of her. He could just see her black panties peaking out from beneath her skirt at this angle, but she seemed neither ashamed or afraid.

He knew her wand was tucked safely away in the waist band of her skirt, and she wouldn't be able to get to it in time. But just in case she thought to try anything, he threw it away from her, onto the other side of the hall as it rolled out of sight.

"Why?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about Riddle," she said calmly, her back stiff and body still, unshaken by the fear he had hoped to inspire.

"Admit it," he hissed, crouching down in front of her. His wand was to her arm in a matter of seconds, his hand grabbing it and holding it in place.

"Once again, I have no..."

He applied pressure and her skin began to pull apart, blood seeping out of the small scratches. She winced and stopped talking. He waited a few more seconds before he stopped thinking about causing her pain, allowing the spell to stop. She was breathing heavily in pain as she looked away from her arm.

He actually laughed, a barking, cruel laugh, "You're scared of blood?"

For once there was something akin to helplessness in her voice, "Stop it Tom."

"Perhaps you should have thought of the consequences before you began scheming."

"You got a higher grade than me in potions last year. How the hell did that happen? We were partners for god's sake, and I did better on my O. than you did – I should have been top of the class, if you hadn't told Slughorn you caught me in the boys dorms, he would have given me the higher grade. Smug prick. And you ruined my party – my end of the year party – absolutely destroyed it what with your rules and all. How dare you threaten to tell the headmaster on me. We aren't 11 anymore Riddle."

"Exactly, we aren't. Which is why going about scheming to ruin someone's life simply because they pointed out your wrongdoings is silly."

"But pretty goddamn hilarious. Oh, you should have seen the people laughing at you while you were yelling at that first year who asked directions to Kings Cross. Quite a precious moment really. I think I may have photographs somewhere."

And despite all this, Vera could still tease him.

Tom lifted his wand.

It was pain. Immense pain. Inhuman pain. Immeasurable pain. But she relaxed and let it come. What was life, what was pleasure, without pain? What of her screams and cries for mercy would really change Tom's mind, would really make the curse end? She closed her eyes and let it wash over her once again as she was spread out on the cold stone floor, trembling as the shock waves hit her body, as every cell exploded in its own private hell.

It was a gasp and a simple whispered "Tom" that finally shook him out of his reverie. He let the curse fall and menacingly whispered, "Do not mock me again Vera. This is the only time I am going to give you a warning."

She smirked, "Whatever you say, Lord."

He stared down at her, her disheveled clothing, her twitching hands, her wincing eyes and hated the fact that she still looked perfect. A wave of his wand opened a long scar on her forearm. She cried out in pain, but couldn't bear to look at the wound long enough to heal it.

He started walking away, not caring much at that moment if she bled to death. This was Vera Sinclair. She was insufferable. She was cruel. She had made the previous seven years of his life a more unbearable hell than the eleven he had spent at the orphanage with those stupid muggles. She deserved pain. She deserved death.

But one little whisper from her changed everything, had him turning around again, had him realizing Vera bloody Sinclair was the closest thing to an equal, in some ways the closest thing to a true friend, he had ever had. He wished a thousand times over for her death, but he could never be the one to cause it - he had seen her, vulnerable, alone, stressed, tired - he had seen her as he saw himself, as a reflection of what he felt and he couldn't bring himself to kill the twisted twin she had become.

"Tom, Tom, Tom, please. Tom," she called and he obeyed, turning, leaning on the ground next to her and sealing the gash with a healing spell, getting rid of the blood with a healing spell.

She looked down at the tattered part of her arm and just leaned into him, as if for comfort, as if she was totally disregarding the fact that he had done this to her. Her whisper hitched in her throat and then came out as a gasp of air on his neck, "Tom", right before she fainted.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This is a much shorter chapter than my usual, but the last one was super long. I really like this - but in future chapters I am going to move away from Tom's feelings and to more actual events. Now that I've set up the connection between them, that should be easier. Does the relationship seem realistic enough?

Oh, and you can tell my characters are vary rarely likable people. Is that bad?


	5. To Duel and Dance

He had to give her some credit, it really was rather genius. However, Tom was still not greatly amused by the fact that he would have to walk down to breakfast like this _and_ he had only noticed it after some third years had passed by him laughing and pointing.

"Vera bloody Sinclair!" Tom yelled as he approached her spot at the Slytherin table.

She didn't even bother turning around, only glancing at him out of the corner of her eye and smirking, "Do you need something Riddle?"

"Explain." This was all Tom said as he stopped in front of her.

Instead, Vera burst out laughing. When she'd regained enough breath, she said, "Nice banner floating above your head. I love the twinkling lights, and that rainbow effect. Not to mention the wavy lines and all. You're a wonderful decorator. What is that it says? 'Lady Cuddlepriss Prudbottoms.' Nice nickname you've chosen. It has quite a ring to it. I have to say though, separate banners for each part would have been wonder-"

Vera didn't have the chance to finish as the goblet in front of her burst into shards. Before she could even stand, the broken pieces were flying toward her, threatening to scratch her perfect face. She managed to cast a quick repelling charm before casting a spell that threw the plate of waffles in front of her toward Tom, who just managed to duck in time to avoid being hit by the silver tray. When he looked up again, Vera was standing on the other side of the table, poised for a duel.

"That isn't a way to say good morning Riddle," she commented with a wry smile.

"I hope you burn in hell," Tom shot back, infuriated.

"Hell? I'm afraid you've gotten the two of us quite confused. Obviously, you'll be the one -"

Tom couldn't stand Vera's stupid voice anymore. Her annoying voice. Her superior tone. Her mocking smile. It was all driving him mad. He wasn't going to take this from her anymore - yes, he'd teach her that she was no match for his power, in front of everyone so she couldn't deny it.

He cast a boil curse toward her, she followed with a stunning spell. Within seconds, they no longer cared about how good their aim was or what spell they were using. Each only cared for how much damage they could cause the other and how quickly. There was food flying all over the great hall in response to the plates they had sent up. First-years were ducking under tables. Older students were either running out of the hall or watching intently. The teachers stared on in awe and slight confusion. The ghosts of the respective houses all cowered together at the top of the ceiling. The candles had been blown out or blown up by their spells, and the weather was turning murky.

"Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Riddle, my office, now." Slughorn shouted as he finally stood. Dippet was gone on business with the ministry, so as their head of house he supposed it was his job to solve the problem.

Vera smirked, "Professor Slughorn, can't you just wait until I've defeated Riddle? I'll only be a few seconds now."

Tom laughed back bitterly, "In your dreams Sinclair."

"No, in my dreams you are dead," she responded just as bitterly.

"Ms. Sinclair, do not say such things to a fellow student! Now both of you, out. And put down those wands!" Slughorn screamed over the madness. What a perfect day for Dippet to be gone.

"Hold still Riddle, let me just stun you one last time," Vera commented, throwing five stunning spells his way at once.

"Hold still Sinclair, let me just hang -" Tom began, imagining the horrible things he could do to her if this wasn't school.

"Expelliarmus!" Both watched in awe as their wands flew towards Dumbledore, who caught them with one hand. "Silence! Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Riddle, follow Professor Slughorn. Everyone else, please continue eating your breakfast."

Both glared at each other as they walked along opposite sides of the Slytherin table, toward the main door. If one speed up, the other did as well. Slughorn was already gone, no doubt waiting to yell at them in his office in the dungeons.

"Look at that, your banner says 'I heart Avery' now. How cute," Vera managed just as they entered the dungeons. She nearly ran ahead to Slughorn's office to stop him from cursing her.

Slughorn spent nearly thirty minutes yelling at them about how outraged he was - it was as if they had murdered the entire Hogwarts population (not that Tom wasn't well on his way to doing so, mind you). He finally stopped to take a breath before continuing, "Unbelievable that the Head Boy and Head Girl would do such things. You two are supposed to set an example for the rest of the students, not hold a guerrilla war between each other. You're both lucky not to be striped of your positions. As your Head of House, I have had enough of this! It's been nearly seven years and you've been at each others throats this whole time. I hopped making you two potions partners would teach you how to get along with each other, but apparently that effort was unsuccessful. I will not stand for this behavior any longer! There will be no more of this petty rivalry. One more curse, prank, or insult shared between you two and you both will be relieved of your duties as heads, no matter who causes the incident. Sinclair, do not laugh, I am quite serious."

"Sorry, the image of Riddle's face as his badge is being taken away was too good to resist a bit of a chuckle," she commented with a smirk.

"Not like you will mind losing your badge. It isn't as if you do your job anyway," Tom shot back.

Slughorn huffed again, "I swear you two will never learn. I suppose that one week of detention will have to be one month now. You'll both get off earlier if I actually see you two acting civil towards each other. Now, I believe you both have a free period today from 10 to 11 a.m. During that time, you are to clean up the Great Hall so that it is ready for lunch. I also expect to see you both in my classroom at five tonight for a one hour long detention. You both will have detention every day for the next four weeks, excluding Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays."

Vera tried that charming smile, "Now professor, do you think that's really necessary? I can start acting civil to Riddle right now if that's what you want."

Slughorn just turned, preoccupying himself with reorganizing his ingredient jars, "Well then, you may want to start by removing that banner over Tom's head. I will see you tonight."

She curses under her breath but still smiles politely as she says the counter-spell. Without another word, she stands to leave, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Someone obviously isn't happy.

"Thank you professor," Tom mumbles, pretending to be a shy little school boy once again in hopes of gaining pity.

Slughorn turns back with a smile, "Should have just come to me first, my boy. You'll still have to serve detention though. You know, I must abide by the standards of fairness and all that."

"I hardly thinks its fair for her to get away with treating me like that."

"You did technically cast the first curse though, my boy. And anyway, Vera's parents have friends in the ministry. Can't afford to get on their bad side, otherwise Dippet and I might both soon be out of a job. She can be a sweet girl once you get to know her really - you two should try to be friends. You'd be marvelous together, both with such a sharp wit and charming personality."

"I'll consider it," Tom lies, faking another smile before he leaves, "Once again, thank you sir."

* * *

><p>"Clean the hall by hand? They have got to be kidding me, we'll never get this done. Thank god he left. I'll just fix this in a flash -" Vera perches herself on top of the Gryffindor table and starts casting a few spells to make the various sponges and mops around her move on their own, mumbling to herself the whole while. Finally, she turns to the pile of dishes they've broken and starts charming the pieces back together. Even using magic, at this rate, it's unlikely they'll finish cleaning the whole hall.<p>

Tom turns to his side of the hall. They had agreed to split the work at the beginning, to minimize future arguments. Of course, he had insisted on taking the Slytherin and Ravenclaw side. He casts the same charms, watching as his own cleaning implements get to work and then turning to the candles in front of him, lighting and levitating them all in one fell swoop of his wand. He lit the fires and began fixing the windows one by one next, at the same time cleaning gobs of food off of them. They sure had done a good deal of damage to the room.

When Tom's done with the windows, he sits down on the Slytherin table and pulls a book from his bag. Vera stops to stare at him before asking in an annoyed tone, "Would you mind helping me?"

"I thought we agreed to split up the hall," Tom says tersely, "It isn't my fault if you can't finish your half."

"Well, I'm sure Slughorn won't mind giving you an extra detention anyway," Vera responds just as tersely. She flies the broken dishes over to the Slytherin table and takes a seat right next to him before continuing to charm them back together. Tom finally gets annoyed and decides the quicker this is finished, the quicker he can get away from her. With an annoyed sigh, he turns back and helps her finish the rest of the pile.

While Tom continues reading, Vera wanders around the rest of the hall, picking up the random things laying about and cleaning up anything they've missed. After 10 minutes of searching, she finally stumbles upon the candleholders that go on the fireplace by the Slytherin table. She picks them up and walks over to the fireplace. Of course, given her height, it's a bit of a reach for her.

Vera almost has the candleholder on the fireplace when Tom hears a shattering sound coming from above. Vera hasn't noticed, but the window above her has cracked again. Feeling a sudden moment of chivalry and an odd sense of responsibility, Tom jumps up and grabs her, pushing her on top of the Slytherin table.

Next thing he knows, Vera's staring up at him, and he realizes his skin feels like its on fire when it's touching her. He stumbles off of her awkwardly and brushes himself off. Vera stands as if nothing has happened and proceeds to fix the window that almost killed her.

"It looks like we are all done, so I am going to go back to having a life now. Enjoy sitting here with your books," Vera says dismissively as she fixes her robes and grabs her bag.

"Enjoy wasting away your school tuition on pointless socializing," Tom bites back, skin still searing.

As Vera was almost out of the door, she turned back. Instead of replying with some biting remark on how he couldn't even pay his school tuition, she just held her tongue and said, "Thank you."

* * *

><p>"Ms. Sinclair, I have already explained to you why you will not be attending the fall dance!" Slughorn yelled, "If you would kindly leave my office now, I have real business to deal with."<p>

"Professor, you don't understand how important this social event is to me. As Head Girl, I feel I am obligated to make an appearance at such an important student gathering."

"The only place you are obligated to make an appearance that night will be detention," he snaps back.

Vera holds back an annoyed sigh, "If I remember correctly, my detention is from five to seven. If I attend detention tonight and finish all the tasks you have assigned within that time, may I attend at least the last half of the dance after that?"

Slughorn finally gives in, knowing there is no arguing with this girl, "You may, _if_ you complete all the tasks."

* * *

><p>Vera shows up to detention that night in her dress, face already made up, hair already pinned and puffed to perfection.<p>

"Did you dress up just to try to tempt Slughorn to let you out so you can attend the dance?" Tom teases, already perched on a desk at the end of the room, "And not late this time, amazing! Too bad Slughorn won't be here for you to beg to."

Vera ignores his snide remarks, asking disinterestedly, "Where is he then?"

"Chaperoning the dance. Of course, he asked me to supervise you. We are to clean the supply closet over there," he replies, lazily gesturing to a door that looks as if it hasn't been opened in a few years.

"Let's get to it then, I'd like to be away from you as quickly as possible," Vera says calmly, flinging open the door to the musty closet.

"Since you're so eager, perhaps I should just leave you to do it yourself," Tom snaps back, more annoyed that she isn't annoyed than anything else.

She just looks back, scanning him quickly before muttering, "Fine, you can just sit there. It will probably go faster without you bothering me anyway."

Vera immediately casts a spell to whisk all the ingredient bottles off the shelf, setting them on a nearby table instead. She sets the sponges to work cleaning the shelves before she walks over to the table and starts alphabetizing the ingredient bottles.

Tom rises to help. Vera smirks and responds insistently, "No, go ahead and sit down. I can get this on my own."

"Don't be ungrateful. I'll get everything from m to z," Tom responds.

Vera just nods. Both work for another half hour, Vera finishing first and then going to check the closet. She charms a few mops to clean the floor and ceiling quickly, brings in all her bottles, and then starts lining up her ingredients on the shelves. A few minutes later, she feels an elbow poking into her stomach as Tom enters the room holding the rest of his jars of ingredients.

"Be care…" Vera starts, but is interrupted by the noise of the door slamming closed behind them. She drops her ingredient bottles on a shelf hastily before turning to try to pull it open. Of course the old, shoddy lock is broken. She pulls out her wand to attempt to break the door down, but finds it to be spell-proof. When she finally gives up on opening the door, she turns fiercely toward Tom, so hopeless that she's hitting him with her fists instead of spells.

"You bloody idiot!" Vera screams, her tiny fists pounding against his hard chest with hardly any effect, "Now I'll never get to go to the dance! You couldn't just wait until I was finished? No, Tom bloody Riddle has to try to beat me at everything, even cleaning a bloody supply closet!"

"Perhaps if you hadn't reacted so violently to my _accidentally_ bumping into you the door wouldn't have closed," Tom comments back.

"Oh shut up, you bloody orphan. This is very clearly your fault," Vera bites back angrily.

"I told you not to call me that," he says, tone dangerous as he reaches for his wand.

"Oh, don't you dare try dueling in this closet. As if I need _that_ mess to clean up too," Vera says, visibly more calm, "Might as well resign to the fact that I will be stuck in a cupboard with _you_ all night. Guess my date will just have to dance solo. Pity, such a nice outfit wasted."

"I would still like you to explain to me how this could be _my_ fault. It was you jumping back as if my touch was going to poison you that shut the door," Tom says, still angry.

"Are you implying that I am _afraid_ of you touching me? Why would I be scared by such a little thing? If anything, it was you recoiling from me that caused the door to close."

"Are you implying that _I_ am afraid of touching you? As if Sinclair, I am not one of your fawning little toys," Tom spits back.

"Of course that's not what I was implying," Vera says sarcastically. "Well, if we are going to be in here for Merlin knows how long, I may as well get comfortable."

Vera plops down on the floor, stretching her legs out along the width of the room. Tom follows suit, his legs just a little too long to lay straight. Vera closes her eyes and seems to drift off into her own thoughts. Tom tries to do the same, but is distracted by Vera's ever increasing tenseness. First she scrunches up her legs, then she crosses her arms on top of her knees, then she's laying her head on her arms, then she's moving her hair over so that it's blocking her from his view.

Finally, Tom hears a sob. It's so quiet, he almost thinks he imagined it.

"Is everything..." he starts, blaming his inability to resist on boredom.

"Riddle, how many times do I have to ask you not to pretend as if you care?" She says back sharply.

Merlin forbid he actually asks her if she's okay. Even if she was laying on the floor bleeding or something (and her facial expression made it look as if she might prefer that), Merlin forbid he, Tom Riddle, shows that he may actually care about Vera Sinclair's wellbeing.

"Fine," Tom huffs, "but by the way, I am not afraid to touch you."

She actually giggles softly. For a second, he's amused by her laughter, almost proud that he had made her laugh. A second later, he realizes he really should prove her wrong.

Trying not to think about his actions, Tom reaches out and pushes the locks of her hair back, tucking the soft strands behind her hair. He can see her face now, so she reaches up to wipe away the few leftover tears. This is Vera Sinclair. She can't have been crying about some stupid dance.

"I guess you proved me wrong, Riddle," Vera says, a smirk dancing on her lips. "When you think about it, our duel was actually pretty funny. I daresay it was the most immature phase of our rivalry yet."

Tom thinks he shall entertain her for a while, responding with a similar smirk, "You are forgetting that you dyed my hair pink at the beginning of the year, as if I was some young boy afraid of anything girly."

"This is coming from the guy who cut off nearly all my hair last year as if I was some young girl afraid of looking like a tomboy!" Vera responds, a hand on her hip as she raises an eyebrow at him.

Tom actually laughs, "You did react like a young girl! I'm pretty sure your scream was so loud it broke a few windows."

"Hey, this hair takes me a long time to grow out and groom! You don't think it looks like this naturally, do you?" Vera says, waving a few strands in front of Tom's face.

"Fine, I will compliment you this once Sinclair: you do have nice hair," Tom says.

There's a lull of silence as she stretches out her legs again. Vera suddenly laughs, "All those little first years ducking under tables...too precious."

Tom actually laughs too, "I think I saw one of them get hit with a bowl of custard."

"I saw a Hufflepuff get hit with a bacon strip. Pretty sure he just gobbled the rest right up as they came flying toward him," Vera comments.

They both erupt in laughter. Once they calm down a little, Tom suddenly feels Vera lay her head on his shoulder. He almost feels a sense of relief - so this is what it's like to actually be a teenager.

"I haven't laughed in ages," Vera says, playing with the beading on her dress, "Life is just so very _boring_, isn't it?"

"It is," Tom agrees. "Perhaps we should just start a monthly food fight to spice things up."

Vera giggles, "Or maybe a nice pillow fight in the common room with feathers flying everywhere."

"If we're going to cause chaos together, we need to go castle-wide. Think we could take that pillow fight into the halls? Maybe interrupt a few classes?" Tom replies with a chuckle.

Just then, the music starts. Vera groans, "And now they are mocking me. I cannot believe we can hear that all the way down here. Would you like to dance?"

"No," Tom replies, sounding snappy again.

She raises her head off his shoulder, taken aback for a second until she realizes why he would answer so brusquely - she's guessing they didn't have too many dance classes at the orphanage. Vera rises, dusting off her dress and laying it straight.

"Come on, I'll teach you. It really isn't all that hard once you get the basics," Vera says, reaching out her hands for him to take. When he doesn't stand up, she cocks an eyebrow. "Come on, are you really telling me that the greatest wizard of our age can't master a simple dance?"

He shakes his head at her, then rises to prove her wrong yet again. She shows him a simple box step, leading him in the motions the first few times. Vera says, "When you are ready, take the lead. Just like everything else in society, males always lead while dancing."

It only takes him a few more rounds before he starts leading her. A few songs in, when he's comfortable on his feet, Vera starts free-styling more of the moves, challenging him to take an extra step forward or do a spin every once in a while. When half an hour has passed, they're comfortably dancing together with Tom controlling their every step. A few songs later, he realizes how natural this feels and becomes more confident.

After an hour, Vera sits down again, "Sorry Tom, I'm tired. It's been a long day."

She sighs and, before Tom can even join her on the floor, is rubbing her temples again with that same exhausted look on her face. She reaches for her handbag, which she had dropped on one of the shelves upon first entering. Seeing her expression, Tom remains standing and turns to organize the ingredient bottles they had left sitting there earlier.

Turning back to put a bottle on the shelf behind him, he notices she's holding and reading a few letters that had been in her handbag. He ignores it and waits until she's stood to organize the bottles on her side before speaking to her again.

"We'll be..." he's cut off by the creaking of the door and stops speaking, lest someone realize he and Vera shared a few civil moments.

The door opens with a thud, and Slughorn is standing there with a confused look, "Well, I thought you two had left! I was about to check your work. Good thing I did, otherwise you two may have been in this closet all night. This door has always been a bit of a problem."

"Perfect professor, I believe I have just finished." Vera says with a fake smile, "If you would kindly look over my work, perhaps I could scurry off to the dance for a few minutes before it's over?"

"Why of course you can go! I'm sure it's wonderful," Slughorn says, sounding like he's had a bit too much cider, "By the way, Davies is still waiting for you outside the Slytherin common room."

Vera actually seems to blush, "Perfect, thank you professor."

She leaves without even acknowledging Tom. He picks up his schoolbag, talks with Slughorn for a bit, and heads out too. Just in time to see Vera kiss Davies in front of the entrance to their common room.

"Get a room Sinclair," Tom calls out as he enters the common room.

And there's her giggle again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This chapter personally made me laugh. Sorry it has been so long, I got caught up with school/work/leadership positions, but I am going to put a huge effort into writing more, especially as I have many chapters of this and my other story (Riddle and his Sphinx) prewritten and just need to edit them. Next update coming soon, but it should be a pretty short chapter.

If you are still reading, please review. I didn't get very many reviews on my update for my other story, and it made me feel like people have abandoned my fics :( Understandable since I made you guys wait so long, but I don't want to keep writing if people are not invested in my work enough to come back.

_Please review if you have any questions/comments/constructive criticism/kind words! Thank you for reading :)_


	6. (Will)ingly

Vera stared at the letter from her mother. She couldn't quite believe what it said - she had read it multiple times since it had arrived that morning, and she still couldn't believe it.

_Darling,_

_Your father and I have received a letter from Headmaster Dippet. It seems as if you have gotten yourself into a bit of trouble. Do we really need to remind you to stop acting like a child? You are a respectable young lady. Behave like one, or we will close your Gringotts account._

_To remedy the situation, invite the Head Boy to stay with us over the holidays. He will be one of the guests invited to our vacation home and holiday ball this year. Insist that he come. Your father and I are not going to be able to pick you up at the train station - the driver will be there to deliver you to our family home, where you will find your new clothes and dress for the ball packed for you. Once you arrive, have dinner and then floo to the vacation house. We will be in St. Moritz in Switzerland this year. Nico and Dante will also be there._

_See you in December._

Invite Tom Riddle to stay with them? Her mother - pureblood extraordinaire, queen of superiority, unofficial head prosecutor of anyone with a drop of muggle blood - was suggesting she invite the Head Boy, who was raised in a muggle orphanage and had not spent one second in purbelood high-society, to their exclusively pureblood (and only rich purebloods at that) holiday trip. For Merlin's sake, what was happening to the world? What annoyed Vera even more was that she knew she would have to get Tom to go - she couldn't tell her mother that he wasn't a pureblood, and she would be in trouble if Tom didn't want to go.

Finally standing from her bed, Vera quickly checked her appearance. Despite the fact that it was a Saturday, she knew Slughorn would likely be in his office. She opened the trunk at the foot of her bed and dug through her clothes to get to her secret stash of alcoholic beverages. Too bad she would have to waste some of the good stuff on a pair of idiots. Pulling out a bottle of extremely expensive firewhisky and another of mead, Vera casts a spell to wrap both with ribbons and adds a quickly scrawled holiday card.

Vera grabs the mead and leaves, heading for Slughorn's office. When she gets there, she knocks lightly at the door and waits for him to answer. After the door springs open, Vera curtsies. Being a respectable young lady indeed.

"Hello professor, sorry to interrupt you on a weekend. I just wanted to give you this. Consider it an early holiday present," Vera says, smiling as she approaches his desk.

Slughorn takes the mead, eagerly looking at the label. He's pretty sure he couldn't afford this, even with a year's worth of his teaching salary. He almost seems to lick his lips. His eyes remain fixated on the mead, even as he says, "Thank you Vera. What a thoughtful gesture."

"The least I can do for someone who puts so much of their heart into teaching," Vera says, turning around as if she's going to leave. She turns back after a few steps, acting like she forgot something, "Professor, if you don't mind, I also wanted to run an idea by you. Do you think you have time?"

Slughorn finally sets the bottle aside. "Of course I do, Vera."

Vera smiles again, "You see, every year my family has this holiday event. We go off to a vacation house and invite a few close family friends to come stay with us, then throw a holiday ball on Christmas Eve. I was wondering if it may be a good idea to invite Tom. Perhaps the time together would allow us to get to know each other better - I think it may make us better partners and end this petty rivalry between us. Do you think that may work professor? I'm afraid Tom will say no."

"That sounds brilliant, Vera," Slughorn says, smile growing, "I'm sure he won't decline! Given such a gesture of magnanimity, I don't think you and Tom shall have to attend any more detentions. It seems as if you have learned your lesson, and you two are getting along better."

"I hadn't even thought about that," Vera says, hiding her smirk. "Thank you so much for the advice professor. You are truly wise beyond your years. Have a good weekend."

Vera finally walks out of the office, revealing her smirk as the door closes behind her. She had won one over, time for the other. After grabbing the other bottle from her room, Vera runs up to the Headmaster's office. Again, she knocks lightly on the door. Again, she curtsies as it opens.

"Hello headmaster, sorry to interrupt you on a weekend. I wanted to apologize for my actions earlier this week. I let my anger get the better of me, and I've realized how silly that was," she looks up at him shyly. "I just wanted to give you this. Consider it an early holiday present."

Vera gives a glowing smile as she approaches his desk. Dippet takes the bottle, he too admiring it as Slughorn had. His eyes are fixed on the label as he says, "What a wonderful gesture Vera! You really didn't have to."

"It's the least I can do for someone who puts so much of their energy into protecting the students here," Vera says with a smile. "If you don't mind, I also wanted to run an idea by you. Do you think you have time?"

Dippet smiles, "I always have time for you Vera. What would you like help with?"

Vera smiles again, "You see, every year my family has this holiday event. We go off to a vacation house and invite a few close family friends to come stay with us, then throw a holiday ball on Christmas Eve. I was wondering if it may be a good idea to invite Tom. Perhaps the time together would allow us to get to know each other better - I think it may make us better partners and end this petty rivalry between us. Do you think that may work professor?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea! I am glad to see you two have learned to get along better," Dippet says with a wider smile, "I knew I picked the right Head Boy and Head Girl."

"Thank you for the advice headmaster. I'll make sure you get an invitation to the ball. Have a good weekend," Vera says as she turns to leave.

When she's back in her room, she nearly jumps on the bed - she's really that excited. No more detention! And then she remembers the one flaw in her plan. She has to get Tom Riddle to spend two weeks with her.

* * *

><p>They have to patrol the castle together that night. Vera meets Tom outside of the common room. She waits until they've finished patrolling the dungeons through the second floor.<p>

Finally, she's ready to speak up. She smirks as she says, "Tom, I have a deal for you. Consider it a friendly exchange: two weeks of your time, and we both regain our glowing reputations."

Tom rolls his eyes, "Cut to the chase Sinclair."

Vera glares at him, "Due to our little fight this week, my mother has insisted that I invite you to our holiday vacation. That will entail two weeks in a very nice room in an exceedingly expensive vacation house, with at least some small talk with my parents and other important pureblood guests, and mandatory attendance at our annual Christmas Eve ball, which will give you the chance to meet a lot of important wizards. Of course, you'll need some help with learning the proper dances and manners and I will get you a few new dress robes appropriate for the occasion."

"Sounds like you have a problem, since I am going to decline that invitation," Tom replies with a smirk.

Vera fires back, "I already told Dippet and Slughorn that I was going to invite you and they were both nearly salivating at the news. Slughorn even agreed to cancel all our detentions, though I'm guessing he would reinstate them if you declined. Dippett seemed to have regained trust in his decision to make us heads. So there you go - you will get to meet important wizards, you won't have to deal with spending more time with me in detention, you will have a clean slate with Dippet, and you will get to escape the orphanage and this bloody castle for the holidays. All in exchange for two bloody weeks spent sitting around a mansion and a few hours of preparation. I won't even bother you by speaking to you anymore than absolutely necessary during those two weeks. Does that not sound like a worthy exchange to you?"

Tom actually chuckles, "Spending two straight weeks with the insufferable Vera Sinclair? Nothing could convince me to do that."

"Fine, I'll tell Slughorn and Dippet that you declined my offer. I'm sure _I_ won't be the one punished for that," Vera replies back haughtily.

Tom thinks about the offer for a while longer. It really doesn't sound that bad, and it may help establish his credibility in the pureblood community. It's not like he will really be spending all his time with Vera for two straight weeks. Suddenly, he realizes that's where the problem comes in. It would almost be better if it was just Vera - he's actually a bit nervous about having to impress so many people, including her parents. And he won't get to spend a few hours with her on four days a week for the next three weeks. He means he won't _have_ to spend that time with her. It's not like he's going to miss actually seeing her outside of class every day.

Tom rolls his eyes, "Fine, I'll go."

She smirks, "Really? Are you sure you can handle spending two straight weeks with the _insufferable_ Vera Sinclair? I may just eat you or something, judging by the way you were behaving before."

He glances over at her, "Tease me again and I may just decide not to go after all."

They make it up to the top floor without another word between them, and start heading downstairs again. Once they get to the fifth floor, Vera turns to the right, heading for Ravenclaw tower.

"Still wasting your time on that quidditch idiot?" Tom spits out as she leaves.

"Still wasting your time with - oh wait, who would want to spend time with the heartless Tom Riddle?" Vera calls back.

* * *

><p>Vera had been clever enough to find a way around the "No boys in the girls dorm" rule – by having Davies fly into her window instead. And she was taking full advantage of the single room she had gotten with the Head Girl position. She had met him by Ravenclaw Tower to quickly convince him to come over.<p>

She's actually spinning around in her room. Victory has been achieved. She's back in everyone's good graces - and all it will take is dealing with having Tom Riddle around for two short weeks. This definitely deserves a celebration.

"What puts you in such a good mood?" Davies asks, staring at Vera as he sits on her bed.

"Let's just say I won for today," Vera says, stopping to kiss him.

Davies laughs, "Another victory over Riddle? What have you done this time?"

"For once, a victory with Riddle. No more detentions for me darling!" She kisses him again, this time leaning over him with her hands on either side. "Shall we celebrate?"

"Of course," Davies says, watching her dig out a bottle of very expensive champagne and spell up a bucket of ice. She dumps the champagne in the bucket, then turns back to him.

Vera smirks, "Well we wait for that to chill, I have a different type of celebration in mind."

* * *

><p>Thank Merlin for their Heads privilege of going to Hogsmeade whenever they wanted to, otherwise Vera might actually have to risk being seen with Tom there. She sends him an owl the next day to meet her at the front gates later that afternoon. After all, they only have three more weeks until break – which means only three weeks to prepare Tom for the challenges of pureblood high-society.<p>

"What is this all about?" Tom asks as she finally walks up. Late as usual.

"We need to go get you fitted for those dress robes," Vera replies, "Luckily there's actually a decent tailor in Hogsmeade."

Tom tries to hide his confusion, "Tailor?"

"Of course, store bought robes won't do for an event like this," Vera replies nonchalantly.

It takes them an hour to go to the store and start getting him fitted for robes. As soon as they walked in, Tom felt out of place - something he hadn't felt since his first month at Hogwarts. But then again, Vera always had a knack for making him uncomfortable.

"What fabrics would you like used?" The tailor, a Mr. Mallory, asks Tom.

Vera doesn't even give Tom the chance to speak, looking up as soon as she hears the question, "The shirt underneath has to be silk of course, at least for the most formal pair. Thread count somewhere in the 300s, preferably. The vest and robe itself can't be too shiny - I hate when people do that. A wool will do, as long as it isn't too coarse. Wool for the pants too please. Silk for the tie."

"I'll bring out samples of the fabrics for you soon, Ms. Sinclair. How many sets of robes would you like?"

"Five should do it. The first should be designed similarly to the last ones you did for me, slim fit, but with a green and silver tie. Another set like that with a silver and black tie, make the lapel and pocket lining colors a dark grey to match. I'll need three less formal pairs for dinners. A navy set with a double breasted vest and a white and navy tie. Another grey pinstriped set with a dark green and light grey tie. A black set with a chain in the vest and a blue and black tie. You can decide things like lapel style and cut on your own, I'm sure you have a better eye for it. Throw in solid black, blue, silver, and white ties and don't forgot the handkerchiefs, monogramed with T.R. please. Also add two pairs of black dress shoes, one pair of brown dress shoes, and one pair of navy dress shoes. If you have the time, another five sets of regular robes would be darling."

A quill next to the tailor is writing down every detail of her order. He glances over and nods, "I should be able to finish the order in two weeks."

Vera thinks for a second, "Almost forgot, I'll also need two sets of grey pinstriped pajamas for him too. Oh, and I'll also need to get measured again for a new set of dress robes – the ones my mother buys are a little much sometimes – emerald green with the same cut as last time."

"Of course. I'll try my best to finish it all as quickly as possible, Ms. Sinclair," the tailor replies politely, "The other robes are ready for you. The blue pair you ordered last week."

"Wonderful," Vera says with a smile as the tailor finishes measuring Tom. Tom steps off the platform, a bit peeved that he was basically treated as a mannequin this entire time. Vera stands and shrugs off her robe, revealing a tight white dress with a few diagonal stripes of purple. Tom couldn't help but think of snow as she took the place he had formerly occupied on the platform. The tailor measured her quickly, with a sense of familiarity that Tom couldn't help but envy - he couldn't have imagined getting fitted for custom-made robes before. He had barely been able to afford the second-hand ones with the assistance money from Hogwarts.

Ten minutes later, she finishes reviewing fabric samples, finalizes her order (Tom balks at the price, nearly 1,500 galleons), picks up a set of robes, and then bustles them out of the store. Tom thinks they are heading back to Hogwarts, but she grabs his hand to pull him in the opposite direction.

"What now?" Tom says with an eye roll. Who knew shopping was so annoying?

Vera actually laughs, "There is a lot that goes into the appearance of having money. Luckily your hair is already decent, but we still need to get you a nice watch at least."

She pulls him into a jewelry store, once again greeting the owner, a Mr. Alphius, by name. They go straight to the counter for watches. All Vera says is, "Give me the third most expensive silver one you have. Tom, go pick out three rings."

When she joins him by the ring display after the watch is boxed, he raises an eyebrow at her, "Third most expensive?"

"Well, wearing the most expensive one just makes you look like you are showing off. The second most expensive one makes you look like you just couldn't afford the most expensive one. The third most expensive shows that you are trying, but not trying too hard."

Tom can't help but chuckle, "Where on earth do they teach you these things?"

"Nobody teaches you, you simply learn what not to do by listening to who's being gossiped about and for what," Vera replies casually. "Are you all set?"

"Yes," Tom says, looking at her with something of awe. This is the moment he realizes that he really can't belong in her world, no matter how much she dresses him up like he does.

"Mr. Alphius, could you come over here quickly?" Vera calls out.

The shop owner bounds over. Tom picks out the three he wants and gets ready to leave the shop. To his surprise, Vera stops him and says, "I need to get one more thing. Alphius, did you finish engraving that silver link bracelet, the one with the diamonds?"

"Yes I did, Ms. Sinclair," he hands her the three boxes of rings, then searches a drawer for a longer box, "Here you go."

Once again, Vera pays for everything. This time she hands everything but the bracelet to Tom as they leave the shop. They finally walk back toward Hogwarts, Vera opening the box quickly to look at the bracelet before tucking it away with the robes. Tom doesn't ask about them.

"I'm amazed, we haven't fought all day," she remarks.

"Perhaps Slughorn really did teach us how to be civil to one another," Tom quipped with a smirk.

"Or I am running out of ways to annoy you. I'll have to go brainstorm new ones now," Vera replies, matching his smirk.

"You do realize that's a warning for battle, right?" Tom remarks, "I'll just go back and plan a few counter-attacks anyway."

"You should, because I plan to stop being civil to you as soon as we enter the castle, and continue being uncivil to you until next Sunday night, whereupon I shall improve my manners once again only for the length of time it takes me to teach you to dance and eat properly," Vera remarks, her tone very formal for the subject matter.

Tom balks. "Eat properly? Are there rules for everything?"

"As a matter of fact, there are. I will send you a nice little guide so you can practice up on them," Vera says.

"I'm assuming your little Ravenclaw boyfriend knows all these rules already?" Tom sneers.

"My boyfriend? First of all, Davies is not my boyfriend. Second of all, he does not. I don't usually require people to learn them. This is a special case."

"I'm surprised."

"By what?"

"That you would date someone who is clearly not of your caliber."

"Do you really think I'm that stuck up?"

"You certainly do come across it."

"I don't really care much for your opinion of me, Riddle. And anyway, who says Davies is not of my caliber?"

"He doesn't know the rules. I gathered that those were important."

"He didn't have the chance to learn them - he's smart enough to learn, if he needed to."

"What do you mean he didn't have the chance to learn them? Is he not a _supremely_ rich pureblood like you?"

"No."

"So he's poor?"

"No, his family has money."

"So why didn't he get the chance to learn the rules?"

"It isn't any of your business Riddle."

Tom laughs darkly, "So he's a mudblood then. Vera Sinclair, Queen of Slytherin, is dating a _mudblood_. Why didn't I hear about this earlier? You don't want people to know, do you? But word could so easily spread throughout the castle."

Vera actually looks angry, "Do not joke about that."

Tom's smirk widens, "Who says I was joking?"

Vera doesn't even grace him with a response, turning and walking away from him the second they enter Hogwarts grounds.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Dying of stress right now, so I can't promise you another update too soon. I will try desperately to have one finished within the next two weeks, though I am prioritizing updates to _Riddle and his Sphinx_ for now as that seems to be more popular. Feel free to prove me wrong by reviewing, wonderful readers!

_Please review if you have any questions/comments/constructive criticism/kind words! Thank you for reading :)_


	7. A Snake's Trap

They only have another week to go before the holidays begin. Another week of pretending to be civil to each other to prevent Slughorn from telling Dippet to revoke their titles. Well, at least it had stopped Vera from pulling another one of her silly practical jokes on him, Tom thought.

The fact that she needed his help to appease her parents probably didn't hurt either. He had been quite enjoying the temporary break. He had gotten a lot done in terms of his plans with his group – and having Vera owe him a few favors was turning out to be very helpful with his final assignments and future research on horcruxes.

There was just one more major event to make it through – Slughorn's Christmas party that night. Of course, Vera had declined to show up so far, despite the fact that it was nearly an hour and a half into the event. Slughorn was disappointed, which was proving a significant barrier to Tom's efforts to get him to reveal the castle's secret exits.

Suddenly, Slughorn's eyes lit up. His golden pupil had finally arrived. It seemed no matter how much Vera broke the rules and defied teachers, they still loved her. Tom could not understand why anyone would willingly deal with such a brat.

Tom sighed and turned around after Slughorn had scurried away to greet Vera. Perhaps he would try asking the charms teacher. He was always a bit absent-minded.

He stopped because something caught his eye. Vera's smirk. Vera's smirk at bringing that damned mudblood to a Slug Club event.

He should have known she would find some new way to piss him off.

* * *

><p>They purposely avoid each other, tip-toeing around each other as they talk to the rests of the guests. Until she walks up next to him as he pours himself a glass of punch.<p>

"I see your new dress robes fit quite well," Vera says with a small smile.

"I see you're still dating Davies," Tom whispers.

"I have explained this to you before. I am not _dating_ Davies. We have a casual interest in one another."

Tom snickers, "I think he'd disagree."

"And what does anyone care what Davies thinks? For that matter, what do you care if I am dating Davies?"

"I don't. But I bet a lot of people would care that you are dating a mudblood."

"Yes, if I _was_ dating a mudblood. But as I explained, I am not dating anyone," Vera responds tersely.

"I guess that certainly makes the story a little more interesting."

"And what a shame it would be if that story got out. Rosier would be absolutely heartbroken."

"I told you not to interfere with my friends," tom nearly grows. He was tired of her distracting them from their goals.

Vera feigns innocence, "I didn't. He asked me to the yule ball. I haven't said yes yet, of course, but Rosier was always very…"

"Don't you dare."

"As I explained, he asked me."

"I don't think your _mudblood_ boyfriend would approve of you going to the ball with someone else," Tom spat.

"Speaking of my not-boyfriend…" Vera says as she turns and watches Davies walking toward her. She kisses him as soon as he arrives, "Hello darling."

That's it. No more secrets for Vera.

* * *

><p>Word spreads throughout the castle in a matter of hours. By the end of the next day, Vera wouldn't dare be seen with Davies again. It was too well known what he was.<p>

She declines another date to the ball. Tom even sees Rosier storming past him angrily later that week. He hears rumors that she's turned down more than two dozen invitations.

Vera walks up to him in the Great Hall just before the start of the ball. Tom expects her to be angry, to yell at him or curse him or something.

Instead, she politely asks, "Since we will be doing the first dance together as head girl and boy, I was wondering if you'd like to walk in together."

Tom shrugs. He doesn't want to reveal his surprise at her calmness, lest he admit he was the one to start the mudblood rumor.

"Wonderful. Well, the music is starting, so I suppose now is as good a time as any."

They both turn toward the door. To his surprise, she places her hand in the crook of his arm. Tom's followers, who had been gathered around him, including an obviously disgruntled Evan Rosier, open the great doors for them.

The crowd splits to let the infamous king and queen of Hogwarts through. Vera turns to look at Tom for a second, smirking, before they walk forward in step with each other, staring at the teachers already paired up on the dance floor. They step into the center of the stage, turning toward each other. Tom feels warm as he lays one hand on her waist and laces the fingers of the other with hers. Vera feigns a smile. The music swells and they're off, sprinting around the dance floor together.

"By the way, thank you for keeping my secret," Vera whispers to him.

"Oh, it was no problem," he responds with a smirk.

"I'm not angry Riddle," she says calmly. "I just want to know why you did it."

"I was getting tired of him. I thought you could do better," Tom responds sarcastically.

"Make no mistake, I will get my revenge."

"I thought you weren't angry."

"I'm not. But it's a matter of being fair. You see Riddle, you reveled a secret that was very important to me. Now I may have to reveal one of yours."

The song ends and she steps away from him. Tom glares at her. She wouldn't dare tell anyone he was a half-blood. Tom tries to catch her later and return the threat, but he can never find her alone. She grants each boy she turned down, including Avery and Rosier, a dance, leaving her precious little time – by the time Tom finally has the chance to talk to her alone, he can't find her.

So Tom leaves the ball to go do his patrols at 10 p.m., figuring that Vera will not be joining him yet again.

* * *

><p>Vera sighs as Owen complains again. He ends his tirade with, "I just don't see why you had to walk in with him of all people."<p>

She tries to look up at him sweetly, hoping to appease him. "You know I wanted to go with you, but…"

"But, as always, your pride won out. No matter how much you hate him, you and Riddle are the same. Too blinded by your own egos to think of the people you hurt," Davies declares as he continues to storm back and forth along the corridor.

Vera actually laughs. "No, darling, it's just that we enjoy hurting them."

"Vera…" he starts, tone harsh.

"What? You know that it's true."

"So you enjoyed hurting me by walking in with him?"

She flinches, "That isn't what I meant and you know it. I walked in with him because I needed to. Because, as much as I hate it, he is head boy after all. Stop being so silly about this. You know that I intended to go with you."

"And now you are too embarrassed that I'm muggleborn."

"You are being so ridiculous tonight," Vera says, rolling her eyes.

"How so? By expecting you to overlook your blood prejudices for me?"

"By expecting me to overlook the fact that doing so would be social ruin!"

"What a convenient pretext."

"For the last time, I do not care that you are muggleborn!"

"Of course, that's why you don't want to be seen with me."

"I prefer to be discrete. Going with one person to the yule ball would not only be indiscreet, but may imply exclusivity. As I explained to you before we started seeing each other, I don't want anything serious. Are you not okay with that anymore?"

He stops mid-step, turning to her. He knows that was a veiled threat to break up with him. He stumbles as he starts to speak, "No. It's just…"

She smiles at him and moves closer, kissing him. "I like you. Regardless of your blood status."

He kisses her back ferociously, knowing he had been very close to losing her and not wanting to risk it by talking again. He takes her hand and winks at her, "There's an empty classroom down the hall."

* * *

><p>Tom hears laughter coming from one of the classrooms and walks closer, determined to stop the deviants. When he's a few feet away, he hears a very familiar sound. Sinclair's giggle. He freezes mid-step, just far away enough that she doesn't notice him as she walks out, Davies trailing her with his hands on her hips and lips at her neck – but just close enough to see her hair has fallen out of it's ringlets and her skirt is wrinkled ever so slightly.<p>

Tom coughs. She looks up at him, surprised, and almost seems to shove Davies away from her.

"I wasn't expecting to see you on patrols tonight, Sinclair. But I am glad to for once. There's something very important I wanted to discuss with you," Tom says with a smirk.

He whips out his wand and curses Davies, flinging him across the hall. "I don't take very kindly to people threatening me."

Tom levitates Davies in the air. "And I wanted to make sure that you understood how I would react if any sensitive information was reveled."

His spell moves up, wrapping around Davies' neck and starting to choke him.

"Let him go," Vera says, her tone sharp enough to cut ice.

"If that's what you want." Tom drops Davies to the floor and petrifies him for safekeeping. "If you say anything, I will kill him."

"Go ahead. I won't even flinch."

"Crucio," Tom says, passing behind Vera as he paces. After a minute or so he drops the spell. "You flinched."

"Only from physical proximity to you. Let him go. I'm sure we are mature enough to handle this between ourselves," Vera responds.

Tom casts the imperius curse and tells Davies not to tell anyone what just happened before telling him to leave. He can always call him back if needed anyway.

Then Tom turns on her. He had her pushed against the wall, wand at her throat, in a matter of seconds.

"You are not going to curse me," Vera says calmly.

Tom snickers, "And why wouldn't I?"

"Because," she responds, hand reaching up to take his. She pulls his hand, and his wand, down, keeping her hand on top of his. "You are _not going to curse me_."

Tom feels the heat spreading from his arm to the rest of his body. He reprimands himself for it. Such primal urges had never phased him before. He had been ever so good at resisting them – until this year.

"I was never going to tell anyone. I just wanted to see if I could make the infamously well-behaved Tom Riddle angry again. And it turns out I could. You seem quite rilled up – in more ways than one," she finishes with a smirk.

Fuck. He had an erection. He could feel it, and he was sure she could too.

Her lips almost seemed to brush his neck as she whispered, "Are you a virgin Tom?"

He did not want to dignify that with a response. He whispered icily, "Stop trying to trick me."

"Just having a bit of fun. You don't think this is fun?" Vera teases. He actually feels her bestow a small kiss on his neck. "You are, aren't you?"

He can feel himself turning red despite his best efforts to control his reaction. "That is none of your business."

"But I could make it my business," she says, fluttering her eyelashes as she looks up at him.

He purposely maintains eye contact. He knows he can't be the one to back down.

"Don't you wonder what it feels like?"

"No."

She giggles lightly, lips brushing his neck again. "Oh, Tom Riddle is scared."

He tilts his head down to glare at her, only to realize his lips are now only mere inches away from hers.

"I am not scared."

She raised an eyebrow, "Prove it."

He didn't think. He just kissed her. Tom didn't know what had gotten into him, but his lips were suddenly on hers, his hands wandering up to her face. He pulls her impossibly closer. He feels like he's wrapped up in her, like she's all he can think about and he's just falling, falling, falling further and further into her.

When she pulls away he takes in a deep breath and opens his eyes right way, realizing what had just happened. He stares down at her, taking in her beauty, so well acknowledged by everyone at Hogwarts. He feels like casting the cruciatus curse on himself right now.

"Goodnight my lord," Vera says with a smirk and a laugh.

Tom watches her slither away and feels like he _is_ under the cruciatus curse.

He swallows and closes his eyes again. Vera Sinclair was now his first kiss. He knew she was just playing with him, and he was not a damned fool like the other boys she dealt with. He was not going to fall for this. He had made one stupid mistake. He was a teenage boy after all. But he had to rise above that, rise above being ordinary and human and having these useless urges for someone he very well knew he absolutely hated. He was not going to let her get into his head. He was going to forget about this and never let her trick him again.

Even if her lips were as soft as silk.

* * *

><p>Vera walks into breakfast with Black the next day, smiling and laughing as they near the table. She reaches over to grab a muffin and then walks out of the Great Hall.<p>

"What was that about?" Avery asks, raising an eyebrow.

"We were talking about her family's holiday ball," Black answers as he starts to eat.

"Where is it again this year?" Nott asks

"Switzerland, I think."

Tom rolls his eyes, "Why is this thing such a big deal?"

"It's the event of the year. Everyone who is anyone is there. Actually, being there determines whether you are someone."

"Who attends?"

"Different ministers, most of the big pureblood families. She tries to convince her parents to invite as many of the pureblood families in Hogwarts as possible so she isn't stuck being with them all night. Is your family going this year Nott?"

"I think we are. My mother nearly started crying because the invitation was late."

"Avery?" Black asks.

"We weren't invited this year. Sister married a Lestrange this summer. I'm told her parents aren't too fond of them."

"Rosier wasn't either. Some rumor about his father opening a hotel chain with a muggle."

"It's a tough year," Nott says, "I heard the minister of magic was almost uninvited for cooperating with the German muggles."

"When are you all going to the train?" Black asks.

Great, Tom had forgotten to pack.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know, I am a horrendously slow updater. Don't worry, I won't abandon my stories!

So, the real drama finally begins... What do you all think Tom will do about this new development? I still have a few tricks up my sleeve for this story that I can't wait to write out. If only finals would wait instead.

Also, I should probably make a cover for this. Ideas?

_Please review if you have any questions/comments/constructive criticism/kind words! Thank you for reading :)_


	8. All that Glitters

When Tom finally rushed onto the train a few minutes before it was slated to leave, he went straight to the prefect's department. Of course, with his terrible luck, this seemed to be the one day that Vera had decided to do her job.

"Remember, if you find anyone drinking on the train, you are to bring them here for discipline. I know its a bit of a holiday tradition, but the combination of alcohol and a moving vehicle can lead to disastrous results," Vera declares, checking off the last item on her list of memos to the other prefects. "I sent all of you the schedule last week, so everyone should know when their patrols are. I'll be checking in periodically to make sure that everything is fine, but if you need me for anything I'll be right here for the duration of the ride. Any questions?"

"When does the return train leave again?" One person shouts out.

"January 5th at 11 p.m. Ahh, Riddle, I see you have decided to join us after all," Vera says, smirking as she notices him in the back. "Do you have anything to add?"

"I think I am fine for now," Tom returns with an arrogant smile.

"Wonderful. Then I do believe we can adjourn this meeting. Lest I do not see you again, have a wonderful break everyone!"

Tom shifts to the side as the prefects file through the door and to their respective friends' compartments. He catches Davies glaring at him as he slips by, but just resigns to throwing his bag on one of the seats and pulling out a book. Vera is speaking to one of the prefects in the corner.

"Yes, I'm sure a party in the Shrieking Shack _would_ be a blast. Unfortunately, I think you understand why that may be frowned upon. Therefore, I would say that such a thing would be improper conduct that was grounds for dismissal on the part of a prefect if it did occur."

"You used to be more fun Vera!" The blonde girl exclaims. She looks over at Tom, rolling her eyes in what she thinks is a subtle fashion. "Don't tell me he's getting to you."

"Of course not. I'm still fun – just a bit more responsibly fun. And I cannot responsibility consent to anyone entering the Shrieking Shack."

"Fine, I'll just find somewhere else for my birthday," the girl mutters, pouting. "I'll see you at the New Year's Eve party next week?"

"I'll see if I can make it. I may have some alternate commitments on my parent's social calendar."

They exchange pleasantries and the other girl rushes off.

Vera almost seems to collapse onto the window seat. She's still staring outside while she deftly pulls out a notebook and starts scratching out a list of some sort.

"A driver will be waiting to take us to my family's townhouse in London, then we will floo to the house in Switzerland. I believe we will have to have dinner with my parents, unless I'm extremely lucky and they get delayed in Australia."

"Australia?" Tom asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, my family is also part of the muggle aristocracy. My father serves as a liaison between the magic ministry and the muggle one on occasion when they get themselves into trouble – like they have again with this second war. Anyway, I think dinner will just be the four of us, so you may want t start brushing up on news to discuss. Or you could just prepare to be extremely bored all night. I usually go with that option to avoid having to speak to them."

"Fine."

"Oh, I think I forgot to send you a patrol schedule," Vera says. "You'll be doing yours in 30 minutes with Davies."

"Wouldn't you like to switch with me?" Tom asks with a smirk.

"I don't actually do patrols myself. Isn't that what they – and you – are here for?"

"In that case, Davies can do his patrol by himself."

The cabin remains quite for a few minutes while Vera continues making her list and Tom stares out the window. Finally, after the long pause, he blurts out, "You know your tricks won't work on me."

Vera smirks, actually looking up at him now, "What ever do you mean?"

"All those tricks you try on other boys – it won't work. If you think a kiss will win me over, you are forgetting that I'm not as simple as the rest of them."

"You kissed me, didn't you?" She says, feigning confusion.

Tom remains stoic, "Yes, but you tricked me into it…"

Vera cuts him off, "So you're saying you didn't enjoy it?"

He blushes. Damn her. "I am saying your tricks won't work. I might have fallen for them once, but I won't let it happen again. If you are trying to make me bend to your wishes than you are sorely mistaken to think I could be manipulated so easily."

"Oh, relax," Vera says, rolling her eyes at him, "I was just having a spot of fun. Didn't mean anything by it. Though the look on your face was absolutely precious, it won't happen again. I have no desire to even speak to you, much less to win you over. Once we are done with this whole holiday thing we don't have to have anything to do with each other."

"Sounds like a dream," Tom mutters, pulling out a book to read.

* * *

><p>The entrance hall of her townhouse is bigger than his room at the orphanage, Tom thinks as they enter. She rushes them along, mumbling something about how her mother will have her head if she messes up the evening schedule, and they are through the fireplace and into a grand hall in a much colder climate before he can really take a look around.<p>

"No, no, no! The table is set incorrectly, I said six places, not five. And the tablecloth is terrible, don't we have a new one anywhere? The flowers are all wrong. And were is that maid with the linens for the guest rooms?" Tom hears a shrill voice yelling. He takes in the scene as a dozen people rush in and out of the room, holding stacks of towels, trays of silverware and bouquets of roses.

"My mother doesn't believe in having house elves. She much prefers actual servants, thinks they're smarter," Vera mutters to him in explanation. She then rushes forward, ignoring the porter coming through with all of her bags.

"Darling!" Vera's mother, a spritely woman who looks like she's in her late 30s, exclaims. Tom stands aside, examining their similar hair and the beauty and similarity of both of their facial features. "Everything is all wrong. I just arrived about an hour ago and there's so much to fix already. I'm afraid I won't have any time before dinner. Why don't you help our guest up to his room and make sure he gets settled? It's very nice to meet you by the way, Mr. Riddle. I'm Lorainne Sinclair. I hope we will get the chance to be aquatinted over dinner."

Tom tries to smile back at her mother, but again they're off – Vera follows the porter up a grand staircase to one of the guest rooms, Tom trailing behind. He's never seen something like this house his entire life. It's much more like a castle than a house, actually.

Vera dismisses the porter, levitating the bags as she opens the door to the room. She drops them on the ground and turns to Tom, about to say something, when they hear another voice.

"Aww, you haven't managed to run away yet."

"Dante!" Vera exclaims, laughing as she runs up and hugs the boy. "They did pick a place in the middle of nowhere this time, so that might be a bit hard. What are you doing here?"

"Your mother said all of the rooms aren't ready yet. She asked if I wouldn't mind terribly if we shared for now. Is that okay with you…" The boy trails off with a smile.

"Tom. It's fine," He responds as he puts his bags away. Vera has now sat down and the other bed and began firmly ignoring him.

"Bullocks. I bet Nico will get his own room when he gets here."

"He's already here."

"What do you mean?"

"My father sent him up with me – our parents are in Australia too."

"Oh, good god, does that mean I have to deal with him at dinner? Perhaps it is time to runaway after all. Happen to bring your broom?"

"Vera," the boy says seriously as he sits down next to her. Tom sneaks a sideways look at him, examining his strong, square frame, his green eyes, his floppy brown hair.

"What? She's being unbearable. She wants me to wear this melange of pink fluff to the ball. It's hideous. It looks like something from an opera."

"Perhaps it will match your ring."

"Shut up. Maybe I can find some floo powder somewhere around here after all."

"How is everything going? I haven't gotten a letter from you in weeks."

Just as she's about to answer, there's a knock on the door. A servant enters and tells Vera her mother is asking for her help downstairs. She tells him she will be down soon and he leaves.

"Everything is fine. Same as always really. There's nothing to write about. How is school treating you?"

"Are you going to go downstairs?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Your mother wants you."

"I don't think she ever wanted me."

"Don't be mean Vera."

"Fine, I am going. Would you mind entertaining Tom for me? Give him a tour or something."

"Of course." Vera leaves with one last look back at him. The door closes and the boy turns to Tom, "So, we have about three hours to kill before dinner. Do you want to walk down to the village? Take a stroll, get to know each other, buy Vera some chocolate so she won't feel like murdering us after she's done speaking with her mother."

Tom shrugs. The boy stands, grabbing a clock and mittens. "I'm Dante by the way, Dante Aleksi. Vera and I have been family friends our whole lives. Our fathers went to school together. I go to the Thales School in Greece. You're the head boy of Hogwarts, right?"

* * *

><p>He could literally hear the clinking of forks. Despite the opulence of the dinner, the gold-trimmed silverware and the silk tablecloth and the caviar gracing his salad, there was no joy in the room. Only stretched smiles and occasional bursts of conversation, when Dante would bring up something from the news, or Vera would ask her parents about something they had done while she was away, or Nico (the Greek boy sitting to Tom's right) would try to interject in the conversation. Tom said nothing, except when spoken to directly. He just observed. Even through seven years of torturing each other at Hogwarts, he had never seen Vera so utterly unhappy – or trying so hard to disguise it.<p>

It was like the cold of outside had managed to penetrate the magic-bound room. Everything about the people at the table seemed nearly frozen – their facial expressions, the faux-cheery tones of their voices, the reserved movements of their silverware. The only thing in movement was the waiters bustling to provide food and water efficiently enough to avoid the disapproving gaze of Vera's mother.

After dinner, some guests come over for a small party. Music fills the ballroom as people dance and champagne flows. The sound of merry laughter and greetings of long-time friends rings through the crowd until nearly midnight, when everyone begins to excuse themselves and apparate home, promising to chat with each other again at the next night's dance.

And so the day passes. Tom had to admit he had nearly enjoyed the stroll to town with the Italian bloke – he was funny, almost poignantly so, with his comments about Vera and her family and this whole ordeal Tom would be stuck in for the next two weeks. But above all, he just felt bored.

He went into the library after dinner to get a book to read that night, only to see Vera sitting on one of the lounges by the window and reading herself.

"Enjoying your rags to riches experience?" She teases without even looking up at him as he passes her.

Tom stops in his tracks and turns back to her. "Don't you miss your darling little mudblood boyfriend?"

"I told you, he isn't my boyfriend," Vera fired back.

Tom decides to push her further, "Is that just for your parents sake? You flinched when I was about to mention him at dinner."

Vera turns her head away, "They, like you, are not at all fond of muggleborns."

Tom smirks, "Imagine if someone told them you've been seeing one."

Her head snaps back, her tone severe, "Don't you dare Tom."

"But I think they'd be very interested in your little _affair_," he says, smirk growing, glad to finally have the upper hand again.

Vera looks at him, trying to remain nonchalant. "Why would you call it an affair?"

Did she really think he wouldn't figure it out, watching them at dinner? "Because you are already engaged."

"I am not!" Vera attempts, but she doesn't even care to lie. She knows it won't be easy to hide for so long anyway. "Well … not officially."

Tom raises an eyebrow at her. "Then what was that between you and that Greek boy?"

Vera turns away from him again, looking upset. He can't recall the last time he's actually seen her upset. "I've been promised to him."

Tom's actually confused, "In other words, it's an arranged marriage?"

"Right, I nearly forgot you didn't grow up in the wizarding world. Relax, I didn't mean that as an insult. I was just realizing that you wouldn't know about them. Arranged marriages are quite common among purebloods … to ensure the most profitable match possible of course."

"You must be glad to have such a weight off your shoulders," he quips, about to walk away.

"You mean to have no control over my future? Yes, I am quite glad to be marrying someone who laughs at me as if I'm stupid anytime I try to speak about something serious. Me! The Head Girl of Hogwarts! As if I could ever be so dull as to spend thirty minutes engaged in polite conversation with him. I swear, when I marry him, my brain will simply die the very second I say I do. It may as well. It isn't like I'll have to think about anything once I'm married, other then shopping and yelling at servants of course. What an insipid boy! I'll just be a stupid little pureblood doll for him to show off – and I can't stand that. I will never be allowed to have a job, or duel, or even read a serious book again! For Merlin's sake, I'm a Slytherin. Ambition, cunning, leadership … I've got all that. And my parents are going to make me marry a boy who I believe is very surprised that I even have the ability to write properly. They probably could have found a pureblood with brains and a decent respect for women – but no, they'd rather pick the very purest blood, oldest name, and richest family. I hate this terrible place, and I hate my family."

He's surprised by her rant. So this is what she'd been obsessing over all along – what had kept her up at night and made her cry and made her be so terrible to everyone.

"At least you have a family," Tom says, struck by raw emotion.

"Trust me, it's more of a curse sometimes. All they care about is money – it's even more important than blood to them. Money and buying useless things just to show off how much money they have. It's all so very _stupid_. You know, my parents think that my studying for the NEWTS is a waste of time? Who needs to do any more than pass them, if they're just going to get married a few months later and never apply for a job? It's as if they think I should spend all my time learning how to keep up the house, when they know I won't be cleaning anyway!"

"You're getting married right after school ends?"

She blushes as she realizes that she let that slip, "I meant..."

"No, you didn't. You said you weren't even actually engaged yet."

She sighs, "This is the first year they invited him to stay with the family on Christmas – and I know they wouldn't have unless they intend for him to become part of the family very soon. Before the dance … when you saw me crying … my mother had just told me. They've set a date. My parents and his parents. Of course they asked him for his approval, but not me," Vera breathes in sharply. "It's August. August 18th. Of this year. I have about eight months left of doing whatever I like. And then I'll be a wife – and a mother soon after that, no doubt. I don't want to Tom, I never wanted to get married. I hate marriage."

"Well, what else would you have done?" He says with a shrug. He's just being honest. What else is there for a woman to do in this world afterall, even one as bright and feisty as Vera?

She's silent for a minute before saying, "I'm sorry Tom. I shouldn't have told you any of this. It's not like we're friends or anything. I'll just leave so you can have a peaceful night reading."

"Have you told anyone else at school?"

"I don't want their congratulations. They'll all by quite proud of me; marrying such a handsome wizard and settling down in a Greek mansion. The happiest I could ever have been, I'm afraid."

"Can't you just get out of it? Leave?"

She shakes her head and laughs, "Oh, I do believe that was the first innocent comment I ever heard from you. Just leave? And do what once my parents disown me? Get some pathetic job as a secretary and live in some shabby flat and be shunned by everyone I once knew? Happiness, Tom, is very relative. I am sure I will get used to the mindless existence of a housewife in a few years – perhaps I'll even get used to my buffoon of a future husband."

"I doubt it. He's hard on the ears. Why don't you talk to your parents about it?"

"I'm not the obedient daughter they want. They'll never accept me. They don't care about how smart or talented someone is. All they care about is looking perfect. I've got to go. My future husband will be waiting for me, I suppose. We're meant to talk or go on a date or something. As if I'll like him more the more time I spend with him."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yay, update! I have finally arrived at one of the major plot points, so I hope you all are sufficiently shocked. Did anyone see this coming? For the next few chapters, the Vera/Tom action might die down a little as I build up the rest of the story, but stay tuned because this is going to get interesting.

Speaking of the next few chapters – one of them will be up in a matter of minutes!

_Please review if you have any questions/comments/constructive criticism/kind words! I am still looking for cover ideas too. Thank you for reading :)_


	9. The Ice (Queen) Melts

**A/N:** I have updated the rating for this story because this chapter contains adult themes. This is only the first of several such scenes that will come up or be refereed to throughout the rest of the story, though none of these scenes will be extremely graphic.

* * *

><p>"Hello Dante," Vera said, sounding weary. "It's a nice evening, isn't it?"<p>

Dante offered her a drag of the cigarette he was smoking, but she shook her head. After blowing out the cigarette and throwing it off the balcony, he said, "You still don't smoke? It's a wonder with all this. By the way, wonderful holiday getaway. This is the best one your parents have chosen yet."

"Yes, sticking us in the middle of nowhere without a chance to escape. Brilliant. I just _love_ spending so much time with them. And with Nico. It's all just so _wonderful_," she said sarcastically.

"At least it's entertaining."

"Entertaining? What, those little dances we have to attend every night? I'm already so bored that I'm actually contemplating pretending to be sick and going to bed early tomorrow."

"Perhaps I could join you then?"

"Dante..."

"Too easy for someone to notice. I get it. Well, since you won't let me join you in pretending to be sick, I think that you should stay for the dance tomorrow. It's really the only bright point of my day, dancing with you."

"I wanted to talk about that," she says, looking away from him. "I don't think we should dance together again. It made Nico angry, I could see it in his eyes."

"What do you care if it makes him angry? You don't like him in the slightest. Unless something has changed your mind about him, that is. Is it because you two are almost officially engaged now? I notice you still aren't wearing a ring though."

"No, I still don't like him in the slightest. He's so dull. But you know how my parents are. They'll think that I'll never get married if he calls it off."

"Just dance with me. He can't say anything about it. It isn't as if we're doing anything inappropriate."

"I think it would be best if I just dealt with his dullness, at least tomorrow during the dance."

Dante understood that this really meant that she would not dance with him, not just for tomorrow but probably for the rest of the week. He said sourly, "Do you really have to marry him?"

"Dante, you know my parents want..."

He cut her off, familiar with what she would say already, "I mean, why can't you marry me instead?"

"You know they wouldn't approve."

"Why not Vera? I'm a pureblood – no, I may not be the only descendent of the oldest line of wizards in Greece but I am one of the more noble purebloods in Italy. I'm a perfect gentlemen to them every year I am invited here. I'm at the top of my class with a job already arranged under the Minister of Magic in Italy. I dare to think that I would be a perfectly acceptable match for anyone, and yet every time I bring this up you act as if I am joking."

"It isn't me, it's my parents. You're perfectly acceptable, but they want extraordinary."

"You've never even said anything about us to them, even before you were promised, when you could have suggested me. Do you not love me as you said you did the first time we went to bed together? Do you not want my company except for this same short holiday and a few summer weeks every year?"

"Dante, you know I care for you."

"Then why didn't you ever let me tell your parents? I would be better for you than him – first of all, you can actually stand to talk to me. We know each other well enough now, but I would come visit you in England so we could spend more time together before we were married. You told me you loved me Vera. Were you telling the truth?"

She blushed, "Of course I was."

"Then why did you just tell me you cared for me? Why haven't you told me you loved me since last year – even after we spent all summer together?"

"Dante, can we please not talk about this?"

"Are you in love with someone else?"

"No, I am not Dante. I just think it will hurt to love you when I know that I will be married to someone else soon."

"But you could ask your parents. I'll ask them if you let me. There's no reason why they shouldn't let you marry me. Your engagement with Nico hasn't even been announced yet, so there's no reason anyone should object to you calling it off."

"They'll murder me."

"We don't have to tell them we've been together. We can just say we realized that we've always got along and been good friends over the years, so why shouldn't we be a good couple."

"They'll say no Dante. It's the name that matters to them. This is their chance to marry their daughter off to the only remaining Demetrius. They love that name."

"But they have to love you too. You are their only child. They have to respect your happiness."

She laughed darkly, "If they wanted me to be happy, they would never have arranged my marriage for me. They would never have told me that I was foolish for being Head Girl – that I was wasting my time learning anything, because I should be paying attention to my future husband instead."

"Well I want you to be happy. I won't say your foolish. I won't force you to give up your studies."

"Then why are you trying to force me to marry you?"

"So you won't marry him!" Dante said angrily, his hand pulling on his hair, "I mean, for Merlin's sake, August 18. I thought they would put it off until you were older – maybe they would even wait until you were 21 – and we would have a few more years of being together, even in secret."

She sighs, "I know. I thought so too."

"August," he repeats incredulously. "You know how he told me? He asked me to be the best man today, right in front of all the men when we were outside smoking after dinner. I couldn't say no, but I think he knew I wanted to from the way he was smirking. Everybody was congratulating me, and I just wanted to scream at him."

She shakes her head, "Please don't say anything to him."

"Why shouldn't I? You hate him." He saw her tense and said, "Don't worry, as much as I want to, I won't. It would destroy both of us. Would you please ask your parents though? Before they announce your engagement at the ball?"

She sighed, "Dante..."

He frowns, "By your tone, I can tell that you're going to say no. Then can I ask them? I promise I won't let anything slip about what we've been doing the past few years. I'll just say I fancy you."

"Dante, please don't push this."

"Why not? Do you think I'm not good enough to marry you?"

"It's the money – I know you have money too, but Nico is the sole heir to his whole family fortune."

"What difference could the money make to your parents? They already have more than enough to live this way for the rest of their lives. And if they're worried about my ability to take care of you – well, I'm not working to make money. I've got plenty of that and anyway we'll have your fortune too and so there's no reason you're life with me shouldn't exceed the luxury of the life you have here."

"You still haven't got as much money as he does."

"Is the money worth it to you? Will buying a new custom-made silk dress every day for the rest of your life make you happy even though you're married to that bastard? Will the mansions and the parties and the gifts really make your life any less dull? Will you give me up just to know that you'll be able to buy anything you want for the rest of your life?"

"Dante, this is not about what I want. This has always been about what my parents want. And they want me to marry Nico."

"But you could change their mind."

"They will never be happy with me unless I do this."

"And you'll never be happy with yourself unless you don't."

"I'm scared about what could happen if you ask them. What if they don't want us to see each other again? What if they don't let me go to Italy this summer or won't let me write letters to you? You're the only person I can tell things to. I feel like you are the only person I'm really myself around. I don't have to worry about looking perfect or seeming clever or being a good girl."

He chuckles, "I would very much agree with the good girl part."

She smiles as she realizes he's less tense now. With one demure look up at him, she makes him smile. He wraps an arm around her hip and she rests her head against his shoulder. He keeps smiling as he thinks about how they're perfect for each other, the way they fit together like this.

Dante leans down to whisper in her ear, "Run away with me. You don't need your parents, and anyway, you can get them to approve later on, after they see how happy we are together. My parents will be happy – I think they've caught on to the fact that I love you – so we can live off my inheritance. "

"It'll be a scandal. Everyone will be quite angry with us for some time."

"I don't care. If I have you, I don't need anyone else."

"I … I don't know Dante … I don't know if I could deal with that."

"Please think about it. Think about how much better it would be with me. We wouldn't have to rush it. We could wait until we're both done with school."

She nods, "What will my parents think of me?"

"You've never much cared what they thought of you before."

She laughs, "You do have a point there dear."

He smirks at her, "I love you so much darling. I wish you could love me back without feeling bad about it."

Without saying anything in response, she turns and presses her lips against his. He kisses her passionately before whispering, "How long has it been?"

She giggled, "Since the last day of my summer break I believe. Right before you took me to the train."

"But you wouldn't let me on the platform," he whispered teasingly. "I should have been angry with you. I was foolish not to be. Now will you make it up to me?"

She smirked before saying, "I will."

He invaded her mouth forcefully, pulling her closer. She almost felt her lips bruising because of his desire. It felt like ages since they had last kissed, though it had really only been a few months.

Their relationship had certain rules that they both knew to obey. There were special rules for sex, through they were very simple: 1. No marks where someone may see. 2. No calling out the other's name. Even with the silencing charm, this would be too dangerous. 3. One of them will always perform a locking charm on the door, a silencing charm on the room, and a contraceptive charm. These rules had never been spoken out loud, but they both generally knew they were to be followed, for if they were caught it would surely mean the end of both of their promising lives.

She pulled away to gasp for air. A second later, he pressed his lips against hers forcefully again. Still locked in mid-kiss, he lifted her up, one hand under her knees and one hand under her back. They separated for a second as Dante walked forward. He lay her on the bed gently before grabbing his wand and casting the necessary charms.

She sat up as she waited, reaching for his shirt and beginning to unbutton it. He shrugged it off once she was done, and then pulled her up and turned her around so he could unzip her dress, which, being strapless, immediately fell to the ground. After he turned her around, they kissed again, this time relishing the feeling of their bare flesh meeting. She had his belt undone in a second and nudged his pants down until they fell to the ground of their own accord.

He pushed her back down on the bed before laying on top of her, supporting his own weight on his elbows so as not to crush her tiny frame. He moves downwards as his lips explore the curves of her upper body, he undoes her bra and straddles her. She pulls him back down as they kiss fervently.

"Tell me you love me," he whispers to her after a few more frantic kisses.

She hesitates; he notices the lapse and the uncertain look on her face but pretends not to as he kisses her again. When he pulls away, she mumbles, "I love you." But he isn't convinced, and neither is she, by the tentative words. He ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach and continues kissing her anyway. There was once a time when she did love him, loved him so passionately that they could barely stand to stay away from each other, and he was sure that she would love him like that again, once she didn't have all this to worry about and she could be carefree again, as they had been that summer at his villa by the sea.

He doesn't bother to pull off her underwear slowly. Instead he tears at the lace sides of the panties and discards it's pieces, throwing them too on the floor. Her fingers explore the edge of his boxers teasingly before his fingers meet hers, and they push them down together before he kicks them away. He pushes their hands down, his fingers entwining with hers as he traps her hands under his. While looking into her eyes, he slowly pushes into her, looking for any sign of pain in case he needs to stop. She's almost forgotten how it felt to be with him, the switching between force, like pushing his lips on her, and gentleness, like holding her hands.

She gasps halfway through. He looks worried for a second, so she giggles and says, "It always surprises me. I'm fine. I love you."

He's more convinced when she says she loves him this time, and for a second he's distracted by the thought that perhaps they really are just friends who have sex – perhaps she doesn't care for him or want to marry him like he wants to marry her – perhaps this is all about how wonderfully their bodies fit together in this moment.

Once he's taken her fully, he leans down to whisper in her ear, "You will always be mine."

His hot breath makes her shiver. Her hands are curling around his as she moans. He moves within her, slowly at first. When they're both settled in and coming close to finishing, he let's go of her hands, kissing her softly to remind her that he loves her, and then uses his arms to help him push into her, more and more quickly and almost violently as his passion and need for her takes over. They're both gasping and moaning.

She cries out as she reaches her climax. He feels mildly disappointed that she can't say his name. He pushes inside of her one last time, making her cries even louder as she's filled with more pleasure. Feeling her contracting around him, he let's himself come too. Finally he slips out and they lay on their sides, staring into each other's eyes and still panting from their exertion.

She closes her eyes wearily and smiles at him softly, "I wish I could fall asleep here with you."

He knows that this means she's probably thinking of leaving soon, so he pulls her in closer, their bare skin rubbing once again, and says, "Stay. We still have hours before anyone notices we're gone. At least lay in my arms for a while."

She smiles a little wider and says, "Your arms are the only place I want to be right now."

He kisses her forehead tenderly, "I've missed you so much. You have no idea. I think about you every day at school – it quite often distracts me from my studies. I always want to speak with you and when I fall asleep at night I wonder what it would feel like if you were there."

Her hand reaches up and she pushes the hair off his forehead lovingly, "But we do speak. I write you nearly every day."

She feels guilty for a minute, for not thinking about him as much. For barely thinking about him, aside from their letters. For that boy she has at Hogwarts – a boy, like this one, that her parents would never approve of her being with. And for the other boys too, the ones she tricks with her sweetness into doing her homework or helping her study.

"You don't write me like you used to, not every day. Your letters are shorter now, and you miss a lot of days, especially weekends when I'm most prone to dreaming of you. But I suppose it's only natural, you are Head Girl after all and I'm sure you've got a lot of duties and a lot of work and you don't have time to spend on me everyday."

"No, that's no excuse. You're right, I should make my letters longer. I'll try a bit harder to find the time, I promise."

They sit in silence for a minute. He examines her face, trying to remember it so he won't feel quite so alone later on, but he's distracted by the dark circles under her eyes and the frown lines around her mouth.

"You look pale," he whispers to her, his face contorted with worry. "You don't sleep much, do you?"

"I'm fine," she mutters.

He shakes his head, a sad smile appearing on his face, "Come on Vera, you can't pretend around me. What is it that's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can handle being Head Girl. I'm not fit for the job – I'm sure you know of my tendency to break the rules. It isn't so much the duties, it's everyone looking up to me. Wanting me to be a role model. How am I supposed to be a role model for anyone? I'm a horrible person. I can't even stand up to my parents."

"You are not horrible Vera. Not at all. And your parents – they should be worried about making you happy, not wanting you to be obedient and agree to marry someone you don't like at all."

"I keep being late to the patrols. Tom, the Head Boy, he seems to handle it so easily, and I wish he didn't because it makes me feel even worse that he can handle it with all my snide comments and I can't, despite the fact that I've wanted this since my first day at Hogwarts."

"You worry about too much Vera. I'm sure you're a perfectly perfect Head Girl."

"No, I'm not. I'm always forgetting everything."

"Then I'll remind you, in my letters," he says softly. "You just have to relax for a little while, and then you'll feel all better. Anyway, you shouldn't be worrying about school. It's a holiday after all."

"I can't relax. Not with all this marriage business. I feel like I'm being bartered away."

"Vera, you can't do anything about it right now. We'll come up with a plan, I promise. But after the holidays. You need to allow yourself to enjoy having nothing to do for a few days."

"Well as long as I am with my parents, I will have plenty to do – at least in the way of pretending that I like Nico and pretending that I am the perfect daughter."

"I'll have my mother write to yours and ask if you can come spend a few days in Italy." He adds with a smirk, "Just to see my parents of course, they are such good friends of your mother and are so fond of you."

"Why can't my parents be like your parents?"

"Because, they come from England, and England is a country of manners. You, my dear, despite being born in England, belong in Italy – a country of freedom."

She smiles and laughs as she jokes, "Oh, you're just trying to convince me to marry you!"

He laughs, "How ever did you catch on?"

She cuddles closer to him, resting her head on his chest. He lets her sleep for an hour, wishing it was like this every time, before he wakes her up and they both realize that they have to leave soon, for fear of someone noticing their absences. She gets up first, turning her back to him as she pulls on her clothes. She waves her wand over the room, fixing the bed and getting rid of any other signs that they may have been here.

Once they're both dressed, he walks over and kisses her before saying, "Let me walk you to your room. No one else will be up to see us anyway."

He sees that she's about to argue, so he kisses her again and takes her hand as they walk out. As soon as they go down to the third floor, which is actually occupied by all the guests, he releases her hand, knowing she's afraid it will get them caught. They walk quietly down the next set of staircases before they land on the second floor – one end of the floor is her room, the other end is her parent's room.

She looks along the hallway warily as they arrive at her door. Confident that no one is there, she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses Dante one last time before whispering, "Good night."

He wants to kiss her again or at least say something, but right after kissing him she grabs her doorknob and slips into her room. He sighs softly at her absence – at the familiar feeling of emptiness he gets when she first leaves his side – before walking up the staircase and entering his guest room. Dante is surprised to see that the lights are on and that Tom's sitting in bed, reading a spellbook.

"Still up? No wonder you and Vera are Heads together – both of you barely sleep, " Dante comments before dressing for bed.

"Where have you been?" Tom asks curiously, only half expecting an answer.

Tom doesn't miss the fact that Dante pales and then looks away before saying, "Oh, nowhere, just walking outside."

Interesting then, that Dante's lips have seemed to turn the same color as Vera's lipstick, Tom thinks. He hides the fact that he's noticed this, thinking perhaps he can use it against Vera later. He had known that she liked to play around with boys – but this boy, he was something different from her usual type. As Tom was about to turn off the lights, an owl arrived at the window. Tom noticed that it was Vera's snow white owl, but once again declined to comment.

Dante took the letter from the owl's foot as if he was quite familiar with the animal, and the owl flew away right after, as if she was quite familiar with this process. Dante stared down at the note, lips pursed. He left it on his nightstand. A few seconds later, he reached up to turn off his own light and went to bed.

Tom pretended to sleep, waiting until he was sure that Dante was fast asleep before he reached over for Vera's letter. He unfolded it, ignoring the feeling that he should very much leave this alone. What should he care that Vera was using yet another boy in her constant quest for someone to manipulate? He was not so weak as to be fouled by her charms, so he was not worried.

_Please don't be angry with me. You know that I love you. If it had been my choice, it would have been you._

So this was not just some stupid boy that Vera had decided to use. This was more than she had with the rest of those boys who followed her foolishly at Hogwarts. She cared for this one, like he had never seen her truly care for another person before. Sure, she had that mudblood back at Hogwarts, but that seemed to him a matter of convenience, or perhaps a way of annoying her housemates, rather than a caring relationship.

Tom felt his heart twist – he'd never felt like this before. He hated Vera Sinclair, he tried to tell himself. Hated every fiber of her beautiful body and every perfect hair on her head and every lying word she had ever said. Vera Sinclair was the worst of the worst – perhaps more evil than Tom was because, well he didn't care for anyone's lives, she didn't care for anyone's feelings. He killed his victims eventually, ending their suffering. She let them live, without any physical scars for others to take pity on them for, with the emptiness that she had inspired in them. Her cruel disregard for other's feelings or the effects of her actions or the reactions to her words or anything except what she wanted was her trademark – at Hogwarts and, he was sure, among the company gathered here.

Tom Riddle had earnestly believed that Vera Sinclair only ever could and did care for herself. Love, friendship, affection … these, he had thought, were all things she feigned for that perfection which she so easily resembled. And here was this one very simple note that proved him wrong in not even four sentences. In some ways, it made the way she treated him even worse, because she had known what she was doing and could have, perhaps, done something other than be rude to him. He felt something like confusion at the fact that he had not noticed that Vera loved someone – he may have hated her, but after so many years together, he thought he at least _knew_ her. And he didn't. He realized he really knew very little about her – everyone at Hogwarts knew very little about her, perhaps even her parents knew very little about her – perhaps everyone but this boy knew very little about her.

Tom sighed and folded the note and put it back down. At least it would be good blackmail to use later.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** The next update should be ready in a few days to weeks, depending on whether I decide to stay with the holiday thing or just jump back to Hogwarts. I would really like to finish this story, but since it gets less reviews than my other one, it may have to be a second priority.

As always, I would love to know your thoughts on the characters or the plot. I really like to hear reactions to my writing and they help me shape the rest of the story, so please review or message me if you've been a loyal reader thus far. I appreciate you guys sticking with me.


	10. Hearts and Minds

Vera decides to ask. It won't be so hard, she rationalizes. What harm can it do?

She finds her mother taking tea upstairs on one of the balconies. Her father is gone on business again. It has been a quite day, an unusually warm day, and now the sun is beginning to make its way down the sky.

"When will we be having dinner today?" Vera asks to break the ice. She doesn't remember the last time they spoke alone.

"Seven. Speaking of which, I should go down and check on the chef," Vera's mother says as she stands.

Vera can't help but fidget, "Before you go, I was wondering if we could talk about something."

Lorainne is tight-lipped as usual. She almost seems to sigh a bit, "Well, what is it?"

"I know that you and father have been very impressed by Nico, but I think other options might suit me better," Vera starts delicately, afraid that if she outright asks about Dante they'll take him away from her, like everything else she enjoys.

"Vera, you know this is not about what will suit you. This is about our family."

"Don't you think there might be other families out there who are just as good of a match?"

"Your father and I have considered all of the options, I assure you. I am sure that Nico and you will be quite happy."

"And I am sure we will not. You know I dislike him. I am asking you, as my mother, to please consider who I would like to be with."

"And who is that, one of those silly boys you run around with at Hogwarts?" Seeing the surprised look on Vera's face, her mother smirks, "Oh, you thought I didn't know."

"Mother, please just hear me out before judging. I would like to marry…"

She cuts her off by scoffing, "Why do you think I care what you would like?"

"Because this is not the medieval ages, and I am not some prize for you to barter away to the highest bider! I want to marry…"

Her mother interjects with, "You'll never change, will you Vera?"

"Why do you make that sound so bad? Why can't I be fine the way I am?"

"Because you are a _child_. It is time to grow up. This refusing to get married is getting old. Once upon a time, we might have considered it youthful rebellion, but we have lost our patience. You will get married in August and that marriage will be to Nico. That is the end of this conversation. Should you bring it up again, I will not respond so pleasantly."

Vera wants to laugh as her mother walks out of the room. _Pleasantly_. As if her mother was ever pleasant with her. She slides down the wall and buries her head in her hands, telling herself that she refuses to cry. It never does any good to cry anyway. It would only ruin her makeup if she did, and heaven forbid anyone thinks she does not look perfect for even one second.

Her parents have always been this way. She wishes again for someone to defend her, for someone to be her wall against all the hate and disapproval they funnel toward her. She knows she will never tell Dante. It would break his heart to hear what her mother had said. He thinks her parents have to love her, their only child. She knows that they don't.

As she sits on the hard stone floor with the cold of the night bitting at her, Vera lapses again. This time, the anxiety is not about her impending marriage or whether she is actually a failure at everything. It is about the one secret her family has always kept, the one she has buried the farthest away in her own heart.

Vera was born a twin. Once upon a time, over 17 years ago, her parents had exactly what they wanted – a baby boy. Except that everything had quickly gone wrong. Holding the two babies in her arms, her mother noticed the odd facial features of the boy. The doctor diagnosed it as a genetic disorder. The child might grow up to have normal social interactions, but would likely never be able to do magic or be a fully functioning adult.

Her parents were horrified. They didn't know what to do. Imagine how the family name would be tarnished if it came out that they had a squib. So they hid the boy away in a separate wing, with a muggle nanny to care for him at all times, while magical guests flooded the great hall to celebrate the birth of their little girl. He stayed in that wing for years, her parents visiting weekly at best, until finally, just after Vera turned four and started asking why she couldn't play with her brother, they decided to send him away. They paid a handsome sum for an orphanage in London to take him in and destroy the record of his birth.

The secret of her brother's fate was explained to her only as she was about to enter Hogwarts, and only to make sure that secret did not get out. It was a heavy burden to carry at 11 years of age, the knowledge that nothing, be it blood or bond, was more important than her family name and the reputation that came with it. If she tarnished it in any way, she would not just be a failure – she would be a parasite to be cast off mercilessly.

So it was that the Sinclairs had only one child, a daughter, but at least one who upheld the standards of striking beauty and great magical ability that had been passed down for centuries. But her mother always blamed her for taking away her only boy, for sucking all the strength out of her and never quite deserving it afterward. Her father had long ago passed from bitterness to silence, having the rational sense to realize that Vera had not had the ability to affect the circumstances of her birth, but lacking the emotional strength to embrace her as one should a child of any age.

Perhaps that was why she hated Tom so much, she ruminated. He reminded her of her brother, or perhaps what her brother could have been. Perhaps it had been a mistake. Perhaps he had developed just fine, even learned how to use magic. And perhaps Tom had known him, perhaps they had crossed paths once upon a time in the halls of a London orphanage. She picked on him not because they were opposites, but because they were alike – both had lost their parents in one way or another. In Hogwarts, her only sanctuary from them, the look of disapproval that Tom gave her constantly reminded her so much of the one her parents always had.

And maybe that was what bothered her so much about this year, what drove her to her efforts to drive him crazy through her teasing. They had connected in the deserted common room and the dark cupboard, and she was afraid that would make her fall apart. After all, hating Tom had always been such a central part of who she was when she was at Hogwarts. She wanted to separate herself from the memory of her brother, to bury it so deep she forgot it – but Tom would always be a reminder of it. Perhaps because of that, if she became close to him, he could be the only person to see behind her facade, to get her to reveal her secret. And she couldn't. Her reputation, her family's reputation, rested on it. So instead she tried to scare him away.

She was crying, Vera realized. The effort wracked her body. Her breathing was shallow. She tried to steel herself against the waves of another panic attack, but was unable to even lift her hands to wipe away the tears.

* * *

><p>Tom was walking to the library when he heard them talking. Curious as to what Vera could sound so passionate about given her blasé attitude about nearly everything, he had lurked around the corner, ear stuck to the wall. He had heard nearly the entire conversation – heard Vera ask, heard her mother's reaction, heard her tears.<p>

He goes down to dinner on time as if everything is normal, expecting Vera to show up any second now with her usual smile on. She never comes down, so he goes back after dinner to find her still sitting there. For some reason, he feels bad for her. He never thought he would feel bad for anyone, much less Vera Sinclair, who he had so long characterized as a self-obsessed black hole that sucked the feelings out of others. But here she was, sitting on the ground, staring at the sky with tears on her face, completely devoid of her usual perfection. Seeing her unhappy didn't give him the satisfaction he thought it would. Instead, it finally made Tom realize that maybe they were not so different after all.

"May I have this dance?" Tom says, bowing and extending a hand out to her. The music from downstairs is floating up into the balcony, and he just wants to feel close to her again. He doesn't bother to analyze that wish.

Vera looks up, surprised, wiping at her eyes. "Let me just get ready first and then I'll go down…"

"I think you look fine the way you are," Tom declares, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. "And I do not want to go down to that den of boring old people again."

Vera laughs a little as he pulls her up and embraces her, leading her in the same steps they'd taken in the potions cupboard.

"I'm awful to you, amn't I?" Vera whispers.

"You often are." Tom says, leaving it at that.

A few minutes later, they hear a cough from the door and both look over. Dante is leaning against the frame, dressed in a handsome pair of dress robes.

"Your father just got back and he is coming up to speak to you. He was in Greece. Thought I would warn you beforehand."

"Blast it," Vera says, stepping away from Tom.

"I thought I would use these to get out of dancing with Lucy Prewett tonight, but I think you might need them more," Dante says, handing her a bag of bright red candies. "A little fever should get you out of tonight."

"Oh, you are absolutely the best. Though I do think you might need some if the Prewett's have their eyes on you. What gives them the gall? They wouldn't have even been invited if my father hadn't taken pity on them."

He raises an eyebrow and smirks, "Perhaps I shall spirit her away into some corner and show them what their daughter is really worth."

Vera laughs shortly after swallowing three of the candies. She gives the other three back to him. "Oh, you are brilliantly wicked. Now I better get to my room before my father starts looking for me."

* * *

><p>As luck would have it, they run into Lucy Prewett just as they reach the stairs. Vera, too busy deciding what disease to feign, bumps straight into her.<p>

"Oh, Vera. It's so nice to see you! I'm having a wonderful time, but I was just looking for the ladies' room," Lucy mumbles.

Vera puts on her best cheery tone, "Right down the hall dear. What have you been up to all this time? I don't even remember the last time we spoke! I love your dress robes, you are so brave to go for the vintage look."

Lucy blushes. They all know that was a comment on the age of her dress robes, not actually a compliment. "Thank you. I haven't done much this break. You don't happen to be throwing any parties?"

She looks over at Dante, "I think we will skip that this year. I'm afraid we've outgrown our nights of debauchery. Anyway, as I remember it, they didn't feature enough books for your taste."

"That's a shame, I was hoping to branch out," Lucy says, trying to force a smile. "Anyway, I was wondering if you could give me some advice on what to wear to the holiday ball. I've never gone…"

Vera falls back as if fainting. Dante catches her with his arms around her waist.

"I'm so sorry, I'm feeling a bit sick and faint," She says, faking a frown. "Dante, would you mind carrying me to my room?"

"Of course darling," he responds, picking her up. Tom looks on, fascinated by the show and semi-horrified by Lucy's face. He recognized her from school – a Ravenclaw with a helpful proclivity for following instructions. She helped him find the entrance to the chamber last year by agreeing to record the girl's bathroom conditions for "prefect purposes." He almost felt bad for the way Vera had torn her up in a mere five minutes by making it very much clear that Dante belonged to her. Everything belonged to Vera, whether she really wanted it or not.

"What a bore," Vera exclaims with a sigh as Dante drops her at her door.

"The girl was just trying to be friends with you, and you were vicious to her because of a silly dance," Tom replies.

"Why don't you go dance with her then? Merlin knows she would be lucky to have even you," Vera snaps at him. Tom knows this is a double insult, meant to remind him how lowly he is because he is an orphan and to imply that Lucy doesn't deserve even that.

"Vera," Dante chimes at her sharply.

"I do so hate when you tell me to be nice. It has such an air of irony coming from you. I am going to bed now."

Vera slams the door on them both. Dante stands perfectly still for a few seconds, staring at it. He suddenly turns on his heel, mutters "fuck tonight" and stampedes down the hall and up to their room.

By the time Tom joins him, he seems to have calmed down and is laying on his bed with a book. Tom starts working on an essay. About half an hour passes before Dante says, "I'm sorry she said that."

"You don't need to apologize for her. I know she hates me."

"If she hated you she would have told her parents you were a muggleborn the second they said to invite you. Calm down, I basically bothered her into telling me because I was wondering why you were here and why I'd never heard of your family before."

"Trust me, Vera hates me."

"Trust me, she doesn't. Vera and I have been making trouble together practically since we could walk. I can tell when she hates someone, and she definitely does not hate you. She's just…"

"Vicious?"

"A little sensitive, believe it or not." There's a moment of silence before he continues. "Actually, when I saw you two dancing, I thought…"

Tom detects jealousy in his voice – the same jealousy Vera had when talking about Lucy – and automatically knows what the implication is. "She would never."

Dante stands, chuckling. "And you would?"

"I did not say that."

"She's Vera Sinclair. Anybody would."

"Anybody who only has half a mind. I think my IQ is a bit higher than Nico's."

Dante laughs boisterously and slaps him on the shoulder as he passes, "Perhaps you are a match for her after all old boy."

* * *

><p>Vera bounces into their room the next night, holding up a bottle of firewhisky in one hand and mead in the other. "The adults are gone, and it is time for the children to play. You better hurry up or we'll be late to our own party."<p>

Tom knows that her parents are at the adults-only Minister's Ball for the weekend. He does not know about Vera and Dante's infamous Six Days of Christmas party – or parties rather, because it was a six night event that concluded with a dusk-till-dawn celebration following her family's ball.

"You sound excited," Dante says, grabbing the bottle of mead out of her hand. "Managed to swipe the floo powder?"

"Adorable that they thought they could keep us from sneaking out, isn't it? Your Italian villa awaits! Come on Tom, you don't want to be bored alone, do you?"

"Actually, yes, I do."

"Too bad, because you don't have a choice. Can't have anyone babbling to the servants, can we?"

"Don't worry, I won't say anything."

"I'll give you the keys to the professors' offices if you come."

"All of them?"

"Yes, all of them."

"How do I know they will actually work?"

"You're getting them from me. They work."

"Fine," Tom says, rolling his eyes and standing. Perhaps this will be an enlightening experience.

* * *

><p>The beach house in northern Italy is beautiful and the party is extravagant. Young wizards from around the world, including quite a few from Hogwarts, fill the grand rooms, drinking wine out of fountains and dancing in the olympic-length pool. Tom watches the whole thing from the library, which he manages to lock so that he can spend the time alone. He chose it because it is seems to be the quietest point in the place, probably because of its position nearly hanging over the gentle hill that leads to the beach front.<p>

When the party finally dies out, Tom leaves the library, tiptoeing around the people passed out on couches and all over the floor in order to get something to eat. He finds an abandoned tray of tea sandwiches on a table near the pool, then walks closer to the water as he hears laughter. It's too dark to recognize anyone, but the wind carries the familiar voices up.

"Well the sea is calling my name. And it is your choice whether or not you shall come with me," Vera declares.

"This is silly. Someone is going to see us."

"Relax, everyone's asleep. Besides, I don't care," Tom sees the outlines of her clothes just barely as they fall to the floor.

"Of course you don't with a body like that."

"I certainly think I look better than that blond you were having a bit of fun with."

"Keeping up appearances. Just like you and Nico. You two seemed to be quite cozy on the dance floor."

"Merlin knows it's the only thing he's even half decent at."

"And what about your schoolboy? He seems to impress you quite a bit."

She actually chuckles. "Are you getting jealous Dante? I thought we had discussed this."

"I know. As I said, appearances." He pauses as she begins to dip into the water. "I think I will join you after all."

The moon comes out just as Vera emerges from the water about fifteen minutes later. Tom has no clue what he has been doing, just standing there this whole time. He sees the moonlight shimmering off her skin, sees the outline of her body as she walks backwards out of the water. She turns to grab her clothes and Tom sees a woman fully naked for the first time. Her figure is just as perfect as he always thought she was.

He's struck with something resembling awe and fascination. Too struck to notice that she is walking toward him now, clothes just held up against her chest.

"Like what you see?" Vera whispers almost directly into his ear, licking her lips for added effect, as she passes him.

Tom can feel himself turn beet red. He quickly trudges back to the library through the nearest door and locks himself away again. He finds himself staring at the big window on the opposite wall, which bears his reflection. He looks like he is floating out over the blackness, and he can't help but to feel like he is. He does not belong here. Their heady restlessness and complete lack of attention to consequences are luxuries he will never have. No matter how much Vera dresses him up with fancy suits and watches, no matter how often Dante calls him old boy, there will always be something that separates Tom from them – something that separates them from everyone else.

It is not just that they are extraordinarily rich, it is that they are rich in a careless way. Her indifference is what makes her spectacular, what has captivated him all these years. In that moment staring at her, he was struck not just by her figure, but by the way she stood, the way she laughed, the way she loved – in both meanings of the word. He wonders if she is passionate and quick-witted in bed too, the way she is when they duel, or if she is slow and sensual, the way she is when she touches him.

Tom can't help but to collapse on the armchair by the window, feeling a tiredness that is both physical and spiritual. He feels like she has worn away all his barriers, made him vulnerable to both her tears and her smiles. He had sworn he would never allow that from anyone, much less from someone so well known for doing that very thing to every boy who crossed her path. He had sworn he would never be one of her heartsick victims.

Yet here he is, staring at her on the beach wiping herself down with the towels she had fetched, and he cannot help but feel the very urges that he has long suppressed. Tom reaches down and unzips his pants, bitting his lips and closing his eyes. He is thinking about their kiss again. He has to admit he has thought of it much too often since it had happened. His hand goes down and he nearly moans. He can swear he actually feels her lips again, like a curse that just keeps coming back. He's fantasizing about them now, in different places all over him. And her hands. The way she had touched him in the common room that night. The gentle way her fingers could trail all over him. And her body. The way her curves glinted in the moonlight. The way she had felt under him in the great hall. He sighs and shudders a little as he lets himself go.

When he has recovered from his efforts, Tom moves toward the couch pushed against the window so that he can sleep. He's thinking about the fact that he hasn't even made one horocrux yet since she gave him that book. He's barely done anything. She's too much of a distraction. He thinks he, well on his way to becoming the most powerful wizard in the world, should be able to resist the coquetry of a mischievous girl. He convinces himself that he hasn't fallen victim to her efforts – that he can still control himself around her. But still, it would probably be best to stay away from her. To banish her from his thoughts and focus on his plans. To stop speaking to her, stop seeing her as much as possible, as soon as this little vacation is over. He doesn't need to continue dealing with Vera's tricks for the rest of the year when he should be dedicating his time and effort to much more important pursuits. He decides that he will simply avoid her, and all thoughts of her, from now on.

Yet all he can think about as he is trying to fall asleep is the fact that he can hear them fucking on the beach.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This was originally supposed to be two chapters but I cut out a part in the middle that I felt didn't really add substance, so now it's a bit short. This just took a long time to edit because I wasn't really sure what direction I wanted to go in and ended up cutting out a lot of potential scenes. I think this is a pretty heavy chapter – we finally see what's driving Vera's character, and Tom gives into (some of) his desires – so I thought I would post it at this word count anyway.

I tried to fix the tense mix ups this time since I was editing more, please let me know if I missed any! With a lot of chapters, I copy in material I wrote before and write new stuff around it, so that is where those mix ups come from.

I hope you all like the cover I made for the story. Please review because I really take your comments to heart. :)


	11. The World As She Knows It

Dante decides to ask her father – and not to tell Vera about it. He and her father have a rapport, built up while he accompanied him on ministry trips and visited his offices in England. After last night, he knows he is and will always be in love with her. And he knows he can't stand the idea of Nico having her for the rest of his life. Moreover, Dante cannot stand the idea that it's all happening so soon.

So he sneaks away during the weekend, claiming that he is going to visit his own father down the coast for the day. He does go to see his parents, only to ask their opinion. Dante is the son of the biggest newspaperman in Europe, muggle or magical. His father owns, and carefully controls, the dailies of a handful of countries, including The Daily Prophet.

"Hello Adriana," Dante says, kissing the maid on the cheek as he enters. "Did that package ever come for me? And does my father happen to be home?"

"Ms. Sinclair's gift? I put it upstairs in your room. I'll bring it down to the foyer for you. Your parents are on the terrace having coffee. Would you like anything to drink or eat? That school does not feed you well enough."

"No, no, I'm fine. I am in a little bit of a hurry. Thank you for the offer Adriana," Dante says with a smile, rushing through the hall.

"Oh, darling!" Dante's mother exclaims, standing and kissing him on the cheek as he comes in. "I thought I wouldn't see you until the ball."

"Yes, I never thought you'd be one to take a break from your party just to visit your old parents," Dante's father jokes. "Did you get the case of champagne I sent?"

Dante goes to hug his father, "Vera loved it. You know champagne is her favorite."

"Oh, yes, Vera. How is that going?" his father asks with a wink.

"She's nearly engaged," he says as he sits. He sees that they both look worried. He knows they are expecting him to be devastated. "To Nico Demetrius. Her parents arranged it. She's supposed to be married in August. They want to announce it at the ball. I want to ask her father to reconsider. What do you think?"

His mother leans in, "Have you considered eloping dear? You know we wouldn't disapprove."

Dante frowns, "She won't. You know how her parents are."

His father is the only one who remains cheery, "The English lose their sense of love at 25. Ask her father. Try anything. And do not give up. You're in love with her. That is no small thing."

"His mother was complaining to me the other day. In confidence, of course, but she never said whose. Anyway, she was complaining that he didn't want to take a job. He's never planning to apparently, says he doesn't need it. I would daresay a future minister of magic is a better match than a spoiled royal."

Dante smiles, "You always have the best gossip mother. Would you two mind terribly if I cut out early? I need to get back soon, can't let her know what I'm up to."

"Of course you can go. But I expect you to be at my office on Monday to help choose the Christmas Day covers."

"Father, you know I am interested in politics, not newspapers," Dante says, rolling his eyes.

"They are one and the same my son."

Dante stands to kiss them both on the cheek before leaving.

* * *

><p>"I didn't expect to see you here. I would think you and my daughter were much too caught up in your mischief by now," Vera's father says as he beckons Dante into his office in the foreign affairs department.<p>

"I thought I might take a break and see how things were going here at the English ministry, seeing as I'll soon be working at the Italian one."

Her father turns to him, slamming a folder down on his desk, "Don't pretend Dante, I know what you want. I can see that you fancy her, but my daughter is already engaged."

"Well, she is not technically engaged," Dante says with a smirk. "And anyway, you know she won't be happy with him. Are you really going to marry your daughter away to a man with no ambition who she hates?"

"The decision is made, and it will soon be announced. You know that."

"Don't you want more for your daughter?"

"My marriage was arranged and we are doing fine. The same will be true for them – they will learn how to get along."

"Yes, they'll learn how to have a good partnership, how to lead their own separate lives while pretending to care for each other in front of others. You know that isn't a decent marriage. There's no friendship or love there. I can't imagine that was what you wanted when you were 17 years old."

"Perhaps it's time for you to worry about your own marriage Dante."

"I don't intend to marry anyone but your daughter."

"That seems like a problem for you then."

"No, it isn't. Because I know you are going to realize it should be me. Just look at her when they're together – she's miserable. And he doesn't intend to work. Imagine what the tabloids will say."

Vera's father chuckles, "The tabloids will say whatever your father wants them to say, won't they?"

"But will it be far from the truth? Imagine the parties, the fights. Vera is not going to fall in step and become the perfect housewife to a man she hates, a man she will never feel challenged by, a man who is going nowhere – we both know that."

"And she will fall in step and become your housewife? You seem to have a lot of faith in my daughter."

"I won't be asking her for the same things. I'm not going to ask her to give up all her intellectual pursuits and sit at home all day – she'll be with me, helping me make ministry decisions, helping me make decisions about our family."

"Unfortunately, it has already been arranged. I won't upset the Demetrius by telling them their son cannot marry my daughter after all. That brat will have a fit."

"You care more about his feelings than your daughter's?" Dante says, knowing he is toeing the line between angry and disrespectful.

"I'll do one thing for you," Her father says, turning from his position standing by the window. He doesn't believe everything Dante is saying about Nico, and he knows his daughter would never embarrass them by taking issues public, no matter how unhappy she is in her future marriage. But seeing his passion for her, his belief in her - well, maybe his daughter's talents wouldn't have to be wasted after all. Still, he would need to bring this back to his wife. "I'll think about it. We will delay the announcement until the summer, which will delay the marriage until next year. It will at least give you time to get over these childish feelings."

"Thank you for considering it. I promise I will not let your legacy down if I am your choice. I will be the youngest Italian minister of magic soon after all."

"You mean you intend to be."

"No, I will be."

"You won't be her date to the ball then, just so you know. If I am to tell Nico she won't be marrying him in August, I will need at least that to offer him."

"I am always her date."

"And he's always been jealous of that, we both know it."

"Let him be jealous. It's her dance to give and she's always given it to me."

"Do not make me go back on my offer."

"Do not make me tell her she'll have to marry the man she hates because of a _dance_."

"Go ahead, my daughter can't hate me more than she already does," Vera's father says with a shrug. "Come Dante, you can spare him one dance. We both know she'll spend the rest of the night with you."

"He can have a dance, but I would like to walk her out. It's only proper."

"You've always been a clever one."

"It's just that we've already planned our outfits to match. I would hate to waste such an effort," Dante says wryly. In reality, he knows the progression down the staircase will be the focal point of the night, and the image of Vera walking down with him right after her parents will project more meaning than any trivial dance can. "I know I can be smart sometimes but I really am grateful. To lose her so soon, to lose her at all, would feel like death to me. You have truly saved my heart and my life by reconsidering."

As he's nearly at the door, Vera's father speaks up again, "I want to make one thing very clear. If she is to marry him, you are to leave her alone the second the engagement is officially announced. I will not have you jeopardizing their marriage. Whatever is going on between you two now – and I do not know nor do I care to know what that is – stops the second she belongs to someone else. Moreover, you will not tease him with your conquest if it is you she marries. Whether my daughter loves you, whether she is capable of that, you will keep to yourself. I've had enough of this boyish competition."

* * *

><p>His parents call Nico home for dinner to deliver the news. The engagement will be announced at their midsummer's eve party in June instead. Her parents have requested it, and they have decided to oblige. Nico is furious. He's never had anything taken away from him like this.<p>

"This is a trick, don't you realize it? He did this! He is plotting to take her away from me, and you should not allow it!" Nico yells, tossing a plate onto the floor.

"Nico, calm down," his mother admonishes. "I know that you and Dante are school rivals but this is ridiculous – he is just a boy, and no one else backs up your suspicions that he is in love with her. Her parents simply believe that she is not ready for marriage yet, and you have known all along that she doesn't desire it. Give the girl a break and allow them a few months."

"You will give him a few months to slither in and take my bride away, that is all! The date we agreed on is August, and we shall get married then. I don't care when they announce the engagement."

"You know we have agreed to wait six months between the engagement and the marriage. Perhaps if you have such doubt, you should choose another bride," His father comments, remaining calmly in his seat.

Nico actually stands, leaning over the table, "I have told you, I _will_ marry Vera. She is the only one I desire. I will have her, and I will have her in August. You are making me the fool if you agree to any less."

"Vera's father will not change his mind. If you wish her to be your bride, you will need to wait until December," his father responds. His mother is cowering in the corner, frightened by her sons outburst.

"You are acting like you have no power here. We are the better family. Tell him I am marrying her in June, the week after she finishes school, or this engagement is cancelled."

His father actually laughs, "Then he will cancel it. Is that what you want, to give her away?"

"That damned Italian! He ruins everything for me. If you can be of no help, I will deal with this myself."

"Do not be foolish, you will not go and fight him. This was her father's decision, and it will stand. Be patient and go get your suit for the ball fitted at the tailor."

Nico, still enraged, knocks all the dishes off the table in front of him, "I shall have her, and I shall have her in August. I promise you that."

* * *

><p>Vera's father writers her a letter with the news, which she receives right after dinner. Nico is still gone, leaving her to celebrate with Dante.<p>

"Did you have anything to do with this?" She asks as she reads the first paragraph again, incredulous.

"No, nothing. I told you your parents did care for you," he says, smiling and kissing her forehead.

"What luck," she leans against his shoulder in the old study, a small, dark room hidden away from the rest of the house, as she continuous reading. "But I have to dance with that brute!"

Dante takes the letter from her, pretending to read. Pretending he doesn't know the deal they have already reached. He does not know if it is all worth it, if he will get what he wants in the end, but he knows he at least has her in his arms for now, "It's only one dance love. I'll be there, I will be by your side the entire time. Grant him one dance and then we can forget him for the night."

"You know it is not only a dance. He shall not leave me alone the entire night after it."

He sweeps her hair away from her face. "It will be like usual. I will walk you down and I will stay with you…"

She cuts her off, "No, you will not. You will hand me to him and I shall have to pretend we are in love. How wretched."

"Who cares if you appear to love him. You will not be engaged to him. You will give him one sweet smile and he shall hand you back to me before you know it."

"You did something, didn't you?" She asks, looking up suspiciously. "You didn't tell my parents, did you?"

"Of course not. You told me not to, and I would not without your permission," he lies calmly. "Anyway, I got you something for the ball. At least, I was hoping you would wear it to the ball."

He takes out the box he had been hiding all day. It's an elaborate necklace of diamonds and large sapphires, which match the silver and blue of her dress for the ball perfectly. She runs her hands over the diamonds, staring down at the necklace.

"It's beautiful. You shouldn't have."

"Not nearly as beautiful as you. I got you something a little less conspicuous for everyday wear," he fishes around in his pocket for another, smaller box. It's a long, thin gold necklace with a small gold vial, not even two inches long and encrusted with tiny diamonds, hanging off it. "I know it looks a little odd, but I couldn't exactly get a heart pendant, could I? You can twist off the lid."

She opens it up and finds a small note folded up inside, which simply says "I am bound to you, body and soul – D."

Vera smiles as she puts it on right away, "It isn't odd, it's perfect."

* * *

><p>They are throwing another party that night. It's well on it's way, with the drinks pouring again. Vera and Dante are standing on the raised platform by the pool, holding bottles of champagne and dancing. The crowd around them is following their lead, everyone cheering and laughing. Vera leaves to go get more champagne.<p>

"Aleksi!" Nico yells out as he stomps up toward the stage. He's just come back from his parents and he is not happy. "Get down here, we need to talk."

Dante smirks at him, "Why don't you get up here?"

"Stop messing with my girl you fucker," Nico yells up, arms crossed, refusing to move.

Dante actually laughs out loud."Who and what are you talking about?"

Nico stomps onto the stage, "You know exactly what I am talking about. You had the date changed so that you could pull one of your tricks."

"I think you are a little too drunk mate," Dante says with a smirk, patting him on the shoulder. "Maybe you should check out for the night."

"Don't touch me," Nico says, shoving him backward. "And don't act like you didn't do it. If I see you touch her again…"

Dante cuts him off, "What will you do? Tell your father so he can take care of it like always?"

"You are such a bastard," Nico says. "Stay away from my girl."

Dante laughs, grabbing him by the shoulder as he tries to turn around and whispering to him, "It doesn't matter when you set the date for, you are _never_ going to marry her. Your engagement to her is a joke and everyone knows it."

Almost reflexively, Nico punches Dante in the stomach. The bastard did do it. Dante punches him back, straight into the jaw. The party around them seems to grind to a halt as everyone watches. By the time Vera comes back holding a new bottle of champagne, Nico is on the ground, Dante leaning over him and punching him in the face.

"Dante, stop," Vera simply says, her voice overpowering the whispers and cheers of everyone else.

He stands up, allowing Nico to stumble up too. Unfortunately, as soon as they are both up, Nico shoves him and they start fighting again. Vera sighs and moves forward, grabbing Dante's shoulder and pulling him back from the fight.

Dante wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, "He started it."

"Lying bastard," Nico mutters, pulling off his shirt to wipe the blood from his nose up with it.

"Go clean yourself up," Vera says to Dante as she walks past him, grabbing Nico's arm and pulling him into the house. She brings him up to the master bedroom without a word between them. She drops him on the bed and then goes into the bathroom to grab tissues and a wet towel.

She begins to clean up the blood from his nose and mouth, casting a spell to fix his broken nose once most of the blood is gone. She moves down to his chest, applying a healing potion to his bruises.

"Is this where you and Dante sleep?" Nico asks as she comes back from the closet with one of Dante's shirts for him to wear.

"This is where Dante sleeps. This is his house."

"You think I'm that stupid?"

"No, I think you hate him and you are letting it get to your head."

"What, the fact that you two are fucking? _I'm_ your fiancé."

"I know you brought this up before the engagement. I know you know there isn't anything going on."

"My parents are convinced there isn't anything going on. I know there is."

"And where would you get that idea?"

"I've seen you two together, how wouldn't I get that idea?"

"While it's wrong. Dante is my best friend. I have explained this to you before." Vera touches his forehead, examining the cuts on his face. He leans forward, trying to kiss her. She backs up, whispering, "Nico, you know…"

"Don't act like some sort of angel, refusing to kiss me until our wedding day and then going out there and dancing with him."

"Those two things are not related in any way," she answers.

"Don't bullshit me, Vera. I'm not blind," Nico says angrily. She's in the bathroom washing her hands. He knows she won't come near him again that night, or anytime soon. She had only helped him because she knew how it would look if she sided with Dante yet again. "You are going to kiss me or I am going to tell your father that I'm canceling the engagement unless we get married in August."

"Go ahead, you know I don't want to get married," she challenges.

"You know your parents won't take the risk of it being cancelled," he says back.

"And you know my parents won't like being threatened," she replies, walking past the bed in an attempt to reach the door.

He pulls her back as she passes, pushing her down onto the bed and kissing her. Vera tries to pull away, but he has her trapped under him.

"Get off me," she screams, still pushing at his chest to no avail.

"Now, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?" Nico chides, kissing her again, hands wandering downwards. He tears the strap of her dress as he tries to touch her.

"Dante already busted your nose once, don't make me do it again," they hear a voice say from the doorway. Nico jumps back, surprised. Tom is leaning against the doorframe.

Nico gets up, leaving her on the bed, dress crumpled. He knocks his shoulder against Tom's as he walks past, "I'd suggest thinking a little harder before you choose Dante's side next time."

"I'd suggest thinking a little harder before you try to assault a girl in a crowded place next time," Tom responds, watching him walk down the hall.

"Do you want me to go and get Dante?" Tom calls before he even closes the door.

"No, no, I don't want him to see me like this," Vera says, pulling down her skirt and examining the damage.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Vera pauses for a second after she stands. "Could you not tell him? The last thing I need is to clean up another fight."

"Sure, but I can't promise that's going to stop me from cursing that bastard," Tom says, walking closer.

"Tom Riddle coming to my rescue?" She says with a smirk. "Who would have seen this coming?"

"I'm not exactly a fan of guys who can't keep it in their pants," Tom remarks. He sees scratches, likely from Nico's grip, on her wrist and picks up her hand to heal them. He feels the urge to keep holding it, to run his fingers along her palm and through hers.

Before he can lose his self control, Vera takes her hand back, examining her wrist before fixing the strap of her dress with a spell. "Well, I better go appease the monster before he gets upset and complains to my parents."

Tom is taken aback that she would even be afraid her parents would take Nico's side on this. "Complains about what, the fact that he's a total prick?"

"Oh, but it's my fault of course. I made him do it because I wouldn't even kiss him, and he is my fiancé after all," she mutters sarcastically. "The fact that even you are a better kisser than him is beside the point."

Tom ignores her comment, "I can't believe that prick thinks he is entitled to anything from you."

"Men are entitled to everything, especially men like him. That's the sad reality of this world. Men get what they want, and women are expected to just go ahead and give it to them. And that's why I will be a housewife and you a minister."

"It's not all that bad. You could be the housewife of a minister," Tom quips.

"Sadly, I'm already engaged to a buffoon. And I have to go make sure that buffoon does not get into another fight," Vera sighs and begins walking out. When she is at the door, she turns back and says, with a small smile on her face, "You know, you may actually be the most sane boy I know. How odd. I guess your complete lack of emotion is good for something."

* * *

><p>Vera knocks on the door lightly. Tom looks straight at the mirror as she comes in. Dante has already left, though now that she's here he's not exactly sure where he's gone.<p>

"I just wanted to see if you needed any help," Vera says calmly.

"I can't quite get my tie straight," Tom says, fixing his hair one last time.

Vera walks up behind him. He turns around, looking at her for the first time. He's struck by her appearance. She looks absolutely gorgeous. The midnight blue of her dress is a color he's never seen her wear before, but it perfectly highlights her pale complexion. It's a simple dress, simpler than the ones he'd seen her wear before, but the way it just hugs her figure and the way the slit graces her leg lends it beauty. The silver shinning from the embroidery on her dress matches perfectly the twinkling of her eyes. Her hair is up, with a few strands flowing down around her face.

She reaches up to do his tie without any words. Tom tries to avert his gaze but only finds himself looking at her again through the mirror. Something he ate earlier must have been bad. He feels sick to his stomach.

Vera steps away when she's all done with his tie, looking him over once before saying, "Don't forget your watch. I'll introduce you to the minister when I get a second. I think Dippet will be here so we probably ought to do at least one dance together, if you don't mind."

"Sure, of course," Tom comments, still distracted.

She stares at him for a second, confused by his expression. She finally just snatches up his watch, tired of waiting, and puts it on him. "Are you feeling sick today?"

Tom shakes his head a little, trying to remind himself that he is not someone who can be distracted so easily by how a girl looks. He is not petty enough to be interested in looks, let alone to waste his time saving girls from bad boys – he is one, after all. They are about to go back to school. It's time to go back to his plans. Whatever ounces of kindness they had shown each other here would disappear the second they got to King's Cross anyway. Winter is the most crucial time of the school year. They'll begin preparing for exams and competing to be at the top of their class again, and it will all be even more important than before because it will be their last chance. No doubt they will start hating each other again soon.

"No, I'm fine," he says in a near-whisper.

"Come on, I'll walk you down to the ballroom," Vera sighs, picking up her dress as she starts heading out. Tom follows without another word to her. She drops him off at the side door before walking back up the staircase. Tom grabs a glass of orange juice as he enters, looking around only to spot quite a few of his classmates and famous British officials. He purposely stands in the corner to avoid conversation, even though he knows he should be seizing the opportunity to mingle with the wizarding world's elites.

Tom turns to the staircase at the back of the room as music starts. The grand doors are dragged open by two servants waiting on the side.

"Ladies and gentleman, please welcome your hosts, Mr. and Ms. Osmund Sinclair," the announcer declares loudly as Vera's parents glide down the stairs. As they reach the bottom, Tom sees Vera and Dante appear at the top. "and Vera Sinclair and Dante Aleksi."

Tom watches as Vera seems to float down the staircase. He can't figure out why he feels as if the breath has been sucked from his lungs. They look like two glittering stars at the heart of their own galaxy, wholly separated from the real world and yet entirely adored by everyone in it. They meet in perfect harmony as they take the dance floor, flowing along more gracefully than Tom ever thinks he could. They gaze at each other as if the entire world is contained in the space that they occupy together.

Tired of the display, Tom turns and walks out of the double doors to the gardens. He knows he should be mingling, pretending to be a good boy for all these ministry officials and business moguls. But he feels too angry to even form a coherent sentence, and he can't explain why, except that he hates how everything in this world of her's seems so fake, yet what Dante and Vera share seemed so real in that moment. He hates the fact that Vera could actually genuinely care for someone, after all the years she had spent being inhumanly cruel to him. He hates the fact that he knows that, no matter what he achieves, Vera will never look at him like that – like he actually belongs anywhere near her.

Like the practical plotter he is, Tom returns to the ball after a while cooling down in the garden, putting on a fake smile and making a beeline for Dippet. He needs access to more potions supplies, and, while the keys Vera had given him would certainly help, that would require access to the storerooms in the dungeons, which were usually locked. He hopes to convince Dippet access to them would aid in their patrol duties.

Sadly, Dippet seems more interested in telling Tom what he had done with his vacation. Fifteen minutes in and Tom can't help but roll his eyes every time Dippet looks away. Honestly, how could someone talk for so long about visiting Norwich of all places?

"Tom," Vera drawls, setting a hand softly on his arm. "I hate to interrupt your conversation with our wonderful headmaster, but I would just love to get a dance with you in if you don't mind."

Tom glances over at her. She has that fake smile on again, and he knows he's being paraded around just for show. He doesn't feel up to playing this game with her right now.

"Perhaps we could dance later. Headmaster, I would enjoy hearing the rest of your story."

Unluckily for him, Dippet looks absolutely enchanted with her, "I can tell you the story at any time. You two should enjoy the night by dancing, Merlin knows I am too old for it!"

Tom suppresses a sigh as they walk toward the dance floor. Instead, he hisses, "Stop smiling at me like that."

"But aren't we getting along? I cannot be cleaning dusty closets for the rest of the year," Vera says, glancing over at him, a seductive grin still on her face.

"I wish I had chosen cleaning dusty closets instead of being here."

"Did he talk to you about Norwich? He goes there every year, I have no clue what's so bloody special about it." she responds as they start dancing.

"I didn't even know anyone would want to visit Norwich."

Vera laughs, "Of course Dippet would want to visit a city just as boring as himself."

Tom smirks, despite his efforts not to, "If that's what he's looking for he probably ought to just find some open pasture."

"But then he wouldn't have any young girls to stare at, as if he stands a chance with any of them," Vera responds with a genuine smile. She suddenly glances around the room. "We better stop looking like we can actually stand each other's company. Your friends seem to find it odd. Speaking of, if Avery asks me to dance one more time, I may break his leg."

"Has he done your Potions work for you yet?"

"Don't be silly, I'm having Mulciber do my Potions work. We both know Avery is much more useful when it comes to Charms. A subject in which I am sure I will absolutely clobber you when it comes to N.E.W.T.s."

"You seem to be forgetting that I've made higher marks than you in that class all seven years."

"Six years. I think it's about time I break that streak for you Riddle."

"Only in your dreams Sinclair."

They step away from each other as the song ends, giving each other small nods of acknowledgment before parting. It's time to go back to their old ways.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I have had a hard time voicing characters so it's taken me a while to write – I think I just need to get the hang of it again, since the last time I really was actively writing was like two years ago. Plus sides: I am editing more now, and my mind keeps jumping to random points in the story, which means I have a lot of ideas for this fic. Also, no offense to anyone who may live in Norwich, I have never been there myself so it was literally a matter of picking a point on the map.

I feel like this story is not getting a lot of readers :( It kind of makes me sad because I honestly much prefer the characters in this one over the ones in my more popular Tom Riddle fic. I think these characters are more developed/less stagnant, but feel free to chime in with your thoughts if you've read both.

As always, I love to hear thoughts from any of my readers! Please review or PM me at anytime, especially if you'd like to beta or anything like that ;)


	12. Tense and Release

They've been back to school for a few weeks already. Tom is working ferociously. Between having his followers track down the remaining artifacts of the founders, trying to brush up on his legilimency skills, and keeping perfect marks in all his classes, he's exhausted. But at least Vera has kept the promise she made on the train and left him alone. Without her around, he can focus again. He still sees her sometimes, polishing up assignments in the library or walking through the common room, but she changed the patrol schedule so they patrol on separate days and she's always rescheduled meetings with the headmaster so they are never both there. It seems as if she has tired of her mischief and her pranks, or at least is too preoccupied for them.

They're in potions, which is pretty much the extent of their contact these days, when Slughorn announces a competition. He lists three potions on the board – befuddlement draught, babbling beverage, and calming draught – and declares that the student who brews them all adequately first will get 150 bonus points toward their grade and the ability to waive any three assignments they wish in the future. Tom wants this. He wants a break and a chance to get some sleep, so the opportunity to not do potions essays for the next three weeks seems like a dream come true. But then he looks up at Vera sitting next to him and knows she wants it too. She doesn't even care about the assignments. Potions and Charms are the only classes where she is behind him in points, and winning this competition would put her 100 points ahead. She looks up, glaring at him too.

They only have an hour and a half to brew the potions. Most people in the class probably won't even finish one. Vera starts working right away, wiping out three cauldrons and lighting all her flames. Tom has Avery and Dolohov give him their extra cauldrons and then starts working, trying to chop his ingredients fast enough to catch up with her. Vera's already started brewing her first potion.

At the seventy-five minute mark, Tom looks over, frustrated. There's ten minutes left on brewing his last potion. He has just finished his second one, and he's pretty sure he burned it a bit. He sees Vera turn off the flame on her third cauldron, stirring it one last time before pouring some out into a bottle.

"Professor," Vera calls, waving her hand in the air. Tom sees Slughorn walking over and knows he has to do something. He glances down and sees that she's left one of her potions in his reach and is just distracted enough with double-checking the instructions. Tom takes some ground up dittany in his hand and carefully pours it into her potion. He watches it bubble a little out of the corner of his eye, just as Vera looks back to see the same thing. She looks at him suspiciously and knows he's interfered. Vera reaches for another bottle so that she can get a new dose of the potion, but Slughorn reaches her desk just in time. He grabs all the bottles of potion from her and walks up to the front of the room to test them. She just stares after him, a very distinct frown on her face.

Tom smirks as he bottles his last potion. Slughorn comes back to tell Vera one of her potions didn't work just in time. Before Vera can rebottle and give him the new one to test, Tom speaks up, "Professor, I believe I just finished."

Slughorn takes his potions and walks up, testing them quickly. He rings the bell on his desk after a few minutes, "Ladies and gentlemen, that signals the end of class. A valiant effort was made by all, but only one student was able to complete all of the potions properly. Congratulations, Mr. Riddle."

"Now I remember why I hate you so much, filthy orphan," Vera whispers right before she walks out, silk cape swooshing behind her.

* * *

><p>"Oh great," Vera mutters as she sees Tom walking up.<p>

"Fawley said he was sick so I am filling in on patrols tonight," Tom says.

"You should have told me so I could be sick too," Vera snarks as she begins walking very briskly down the hall.

Not missing a beat, Tom follows, "Scared I'll get revenge for that little comment at the end of potions today?"

"Shut up before I decide to curse you after all."

He snickers, faking innocence. "What would you curse me for?"

"Ruining my potion."

"I have no clue what you are talking about," Tom says, enjoying annoying her this time.

"You cheated and you know it," she responds, clearly pissed off.

He smirks at her, "How did I cheat?"

"You spiked my potion. Come on, we both saw the bubbles. If you try another stunt like that I will destroy all of your assignments the rest of the year. You would be amazed what a little ink erasing spell can do."

"Wow, someone really has themselves in a tizzy over a few points."

Vera turns and tries to hit him with a stunning spell. She glares at him as he blocks it, "You aren't even smart, you know? You're just devious. Whoever first told you you were a wizard was out of their mind. We all would have been better off if no one ever taught you how to use magic."

Tom fires a cruciatus curse at her, which she blocks. Vera raises an eyebrow and fires one back.

"I honestly can't believe you are upset over class points. You know what the rules are between us here," Tom says as he dodges the curse.

"Sorry, I didn't realize being at Hogwarts gave you an excuse to be a total bastard. Oh, wait, you always are. You know that I would have been at the top if it weren't for your trickery," Vera says, continuing the duel.

Tom tires of the competition and disarms her, grabbing her wand as it flies past. His arm starts burning so he drops it on the ground.

"Unlike you, I am a real, full-blood witch. I don't need a wand to channel my magic, because I can actually control it."

He knows he's angry and close to hurting her. Tom grabs her hands to stop her from trying anything else, "I _strongly_ suggest that you shut your mouth."

Vera laughs, "You know what happens to people who can't control their magic? They do very, very bad things. But then again, you really just can't control yourself at all, can you? I knew it with that kiss. So much energy. So much anger. It's like your just begging to make a mistake."

Tom glares down at her, tightening his grip on her hands, "I can control my magic and myself."

"Really?" Vera whispers with a smirk. "Is that why your hands are shaking so much right now?"

Tom nearly jumps back, letting go of her hands as quickly as he can. "I've told you before, your tricks don't work on me."

"The beauty of it is that I don't even need them," Vera says with a smirk. "You're always denying your desires, aren't you? If you want to hurt me, hurt me. If you want to fuck me, just do it. You make everything so complicated because you're afraid of what you really want."

"I am not _afraid_ of anything," Tom says with a glare.

She reaches out, touching his face with her hands. She steps closer, biting her lips. Again, Tom feels the heat spreading through his body as those primal urges strike. He remembers these moves from last time, and he knows he can't let her go much farther.

He turns her around, pushing her into the wall, wand against her back. Tom whispers menacingly, "Try it again. I dare you."

"I wonder if your cock is as sensitive as you are," Vera mocks with a whisper, looking at him over her shoulder. Vera is beautiful, there was never any denying it – but he knows the feelings he's having right now are not just about her beauty. Tom stares into her eyes, alight with fire, and feels his body tense further. He has never been around anyone else that challenges him the way she does, that isn't afraid to say things he doesn't want to hear and do things he doesn't like. Everybody he ever met was scared of him, and she was the only one who refused to be.

To hell with it. Tom knows there's only one way to get rid of this curiosity he feels. Plus, he has to prove that he's not afraid of anything. Especially her. He pushes her skirt up, "Ok, I'll fuck you."

Vera looks back at him, "I thought you wouldn't…"

He knew she would back down. Tom chuckles, "Oh, were you just joking?"

Vera knows she can't back down after all the times she's teased him about this. She's counting on the fact that he will instead. And he knows he normally would at this point, except that he feels different now. He feels like just another teenager – like maybe all the mortal enemies crap is just him overthinking the situation. He wants to feel what it is like to be with her.

"I wasn't," Vera says. She feels him shifting behind her, his hands on her thighs. "Are you sure you want to?"

"Shut up," Tom whispers, caught up in something he's never experienced before – pure lust.

"Are you sure you want to do this _here_?" Vera asks, looking down the deserted hallway.

"What did I just say? Shut up or I'm going to have to gag you."

"Oh, I would love if you did that," she answers seductively.

Tom steps back, pulling her around, unzipping his pants and whipping off his tie. He glances down at her, "Take off your underwear. Now."

She pulls them down and flings them aside. As soon as that's done, Tom pushes her against the wall again, bringing their chests together.

"You really…" Vera starts, looking into his cold blue eyes, which seem to sparkle with a passion she's never seen in him before.

"What did I say?" Tom asks, pushing his tie into her mouth and tying it around her head. "_Shut up_."

All she can manage is a gasp as he lifts her up a little and just pushes into her. Nothing fancy, no foreplay. And she doesn't exactly expect it to last long – or feel so damn good right now. Wasn't he a virgin? How did he know how to do … oh, _that. _She grabs onto him, fingernails digging into his shoulders. She moans and holds him tighter as waves of pleasure overcome her. He pulls out and lets her rest for a second, pulling her shirt apart to run his hands along her skin. As soon as her breathing calms a bit, he's back, spinning her around and bending her over.

He pulls the tie down from her mouth, listening to her sighs as they both let go at the same time. She turns around again, nearly collapsing from the exertion, but feels his arms underneath hers holding her up. She would have never expected him to be so strong. Or to give her the best sex of her life in a deserted corridor during their patrols.

A few minutes after she's recovered, she picks up her underwear and puts it back on, then strings his tie back around his neck.

"Well, shall we get back to patrols?" Vera asks nonchalantly. Tom zips up his pants and puts his tie back on while she's buttoning her shirt and then they resume their rounds.

* * *

><p>He cannot stop talking. He wants to shut his mouth so much, but he keeps spewing junk about how quidditch captains shouldn't be given the same privileges as prefects. For Merlin's sake, he can feel half the people on this side of the Great Hall staring at him.<p>

"You are being unusually talkative today Riddle," Vera says as she takes a seat next to Black. "Orion, would you mind lending me a quill? My last one just broke but the ones from France should be here soon."

"Of course my lady," Black says, digging one out of his bag.

"Thank you," Vera grabs an apple and stands, pausing. "I nearly forgot, would you happen to be going to Hogsmeade?"

"I was planning on it."

"Would you like to meet at the Three Broomsticks for a drink? I am afraid I've been left without a date this time."

"It would be my pleasure," he says, taking her hand and kissing it while doing a small bow. "I will see you there at 11 tomorrow?"

"Sounds marvelous. And Riddle, I guess my babbling beverage does work after all," Vera smirks at him before walking out of the Great Hall.

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate her? How do you two bloody idiots like her so much when she behaves like that?" Tom says, throwing up his arms. "Just because of her silk robes and her fancy quills she thinks she can get away with whatever she wants…"

"Here, she slipped me what I would assume is calming draught," Black says, handing him the potion. "And it seems she _can_ get away with whatever she wants."

"Those stupid professors may let her get away with it, but I am sure as hell not going to. Drowning her in the lake seems like a better option than ever. If I didn't want to fu…" Tom realizes what he's about to admit and gulps down the potion as fast as he can, nearly choking. The faint taste of dittany lingers on his tongue before he nearly screams, "That witch!"

Tom stands and storms out, muttering under his breath about all the things he'd like to do to her while trying to keep his mind as far away from last night as possible.

* * *

><p>He doesn't find her by the time class begins, so he ends up in charms babbling on about how greedy goblins are as they practice non-verbal spells. Professor Flitwick does not seem to take too kindly to it. By the end of the class, 20 points have been deducted from Slytherin and Tom gets back two essays with extremely low marks, which should put him 100 points behind Vera in the class. Ancient Ruins is the next and last class of the day, but Tom is contemplating skipping it – despite the fact that Vera shows up to the class only about half the time, she's ahead of him in it by just 30 points. He can't risk widening that margin.<p>

Tom is on his way to his room when he runs into Vera walking the same way. He's mumbling on about classes and calculations of points as she starts walking beside him, "I think you've embarrassed yourself enough. Besides, I am _so_ tired of your voice. You can have the actual calming draught if you just give me one honest answer. I don't think you can much help that right now, but what do you say?"

"Give me the damn potion before I throw you out a window," Tom responds, glad the hallways are deserted by this time.

Vera doesn't get distracted, "Did you like it?"

He stops walking and narrows his eyes at her, "What?"

She giggles as she turns to him, "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I could tell that you did, but I'd like to hear it straight from you."

He flinches. He needs that stupid cure. "Yes."

"What?" She asks as if she's actually surprised he answered.

"Yes, I did like it."

She giggles again before dropping the potion into his outstretched hand. She's nearly bounded around the corner by the time she glances back at him, "You were bloody brilliant, by the way. It appears there is one thing you are good at."

* * *

><p>"They want to marry you to your own cousin?" Vera exclaims. "Perhaps I shall be the lucky one after all."<p>

"She isn't that terrible," Orion says with a shrug. "I mean, there are limited options when it comes to what my parents would approve of, and she's definitely on the better half of the list."

"But you could do so much better!" Vera smiles at him, placing a hand on his arm. "The handsome Orion Black could have any girl at Hogwarts and he can't even explore his manly desires for a few more years before marrying his cousin."

Orion smirks back at her, "Don't be silly, we both know I can't have you."

"You are like a … well, a cousin to me. Luckily, not a blood-related cousin, but still, it would feel a bit odd, wouldn't it?" Vera jokes. She and Orion had always been close, mostly because they could bond over the same horrid experiences with their parents. He always put up a show of chasing her like any other boy at Hogwarts, but they were too familiar with each other for anything to really happen.

"Imagine if we were married, that would be terrible, wouldn't it? Besides, my parents know they can't afford you," Orion responds with a grin. Ok, so perhaps he has a bit of a crush on her. Still, he knows it isn't going to happen. He is too good for her to play with but not good enough for her to marry.

"Oh, there's no way I could stand living with you," Vera responds. "I'm sure you have some weird sexual fetishes I don't want to be a part of."

"You know me, I'm all into the whips and chains – quite predictable, isn't it?"

Vera winks at him, "Perhaps I do want to be part of them then."

Orion laughs loudly, picking up the bottle of firewhisky he had secured for them using a few extra gallons, despite the fact that the inn was not allowed by Hogwarts to sell the product to students during visits. A few extra gallons was the same way he had secured the otherwise empty back room for them – he knew Vera hated being watched all the time.

He pours them both another drink and they clink their glasses together before gulping some down.

"Don't you just hate their holier-than-though attitude?" Vera asks, resting her head on the table. Orion knows she's talking about their parents again. "They think that just because they have a ton of money and they raised us, if you count hiring a nanny as raising a child, they can now control everything we do. Don't they remember what being a teenager was like? For Merlin's sake, I just want to have _fun_ for a few more years."

"While you aren't engaged to anyone yet."

"Yet," She repeats with a sigh. "I swear, I would run away the moment I graduated if it wasn't economic suicide."

"The lesson our parents thought us so well: money is power. And they have all the power. They were going to make me marry that Prewett girl until she had a mental breakdown."

Vera snickers, looking up at him, "That might have been my fault."

"I should have figured. I suppose I should thank you, but that sounds a bit cruel."

"I would have thought you liked her. Even Riddle didn't seem to mind her. He got so cross at me for…"

Orion cuts her off, nodding his head toward the door and whispering, "Well, speak of the devil."

Tom stops at the table, glaring down at her, "I need to talk to you."

"Wait, I'm going to have to take another shot of firewhisky for this. Orion?" They polish off their drinks together and she smiles at him one last time. "If I don't come back, tell my parents that I hate them."

Vera marches out of the door and into the alleyway behind the inn. She pouts at him as she slouches against the wall, "What do you want my lord?"

"Stop talking to Black," Tom hisses, trying to resist the tingling he feels at the use of his title.

"Why?"

"I don't like it."

"Oh, are you jealous? It was only once, you shouldn't think you're special or anything."

"You know I don't like you distracting my friends."

"Well, I don't like you trying to forbid me from speaking to my friends. For your information, Orion and I are just friends, so you can rest assured that I am not distracting him from whatever you are up to this time."

"The fact that both of you are nearly drunk on firewhisky at noon contradicts that."

"I am not nearly drunk, and you should have more fun. I promise I will send him back to you mentally aware, if perhaps a bit sexually frustrated." Vera sees his eyes narrow and resists chuckling as she says, "Though when I think about it, the sexual tension is getting to me too."

Tom steps closer to her, nearly pressing her against the wall, "You better not."

"What are you going to do, babysit us?" Vera asks, pushing him away slightly and slithering back into the bar. When she hears him following her in and sees him slip into a seat in the corner, Vera decides that the game is on. Even if she had never intended to do anything with Black, she didn't like being told not to. She wasn't one of the little monkeys that hung on to Riddle's every word.

Instead of taking her seat as usual, she flings her legs on either side of Black's chair, surprising him by sliding onto his lap with a smirk. Her hands reach up, her fingers running along his jawline softly.

"Hello," she whispers, locking eyes with him. She can see he wants her. What boy wouldn't in this position? Her hand runs down, her fingers tracing back and forth along his collarbone. "You remember that thing we were talking about earlier? I think we should try it out."

Orion gulps. He's been the object of their power struggles before, but it's never gone this far. Despite the fact that his pants are betraying him, he tries to remain calm. He can't see Riddle so he doesn't know if this actually is pissing him off, but he doesn't want to risk it. Then again, this might be his only chance with her.

"Vera, perhaps we should take this somewhere else," he whispers, resisting the urge to kiss her lips despite the fact that it would be so easy.

"I don't want to," she says, looking down. His heart jumps as he feels her kiss his neck. Her next words come in such a seductive whisper that he nearly moans right then. "I promise I'll be quiet."

"Let's go back up to the castle. I'm sure my room will be empty."

She pauses, leaving a hand on his belt suggestively. "If you don't want to you just have to say so and I'll leave you alone."

Before he can decide how to respond, the table in front of them cracks in half and falls apart. Vera looks up, glaring at Tom, who is now brandishing his wand.

"It's the bench next," Tom says, raising an eyebrow at her. Vera stands up quickly, huffing. "Black, go back to the castle. We will talk about your disloyalty later."

As Black is scurrying toward the door, Vera picks up the bottle of firewhisky from the floor. "You always ruin all my fun Riddle."

"Your fun is always in torturing someone else," Tom says, standing and walking over to the table in order to fix it. After brushing the wood dust from his pants, he turns to leave, only to find himself face to face with Vera.

"So is yours," she says haughtily before turning on her heel.

He grabs her arm, nearly dragging her around to look at him again. "I am not like you."

"Why? Because you're more cruel?"

"Because I have beliefs. I'm not shallow. I don't hurt people for my own enjoyment like you," Tom asserts forcefully.

"What beliefs? The same beliefs as everyone else in our bloody house? The same beliefs wizards have held for thousands of years? How does that make you so special that you get to do whatever you want and act all high and mighty doing it?"

"I'm better at magic than all of them," he responds with arrogance.

"Newsflash: There are literally billions of muggles, which is orders of magnitude greater than the number of wizards! Well I am not all too fond of them either, the reality is they are not going away, no matter how good at magic you are. So what is the point of all this hatred?"

"Not all of us can retreat into our gilded towers and pretend the world below us doesn't exist like you do. For all your manors and parties and silly dresses, what are you actually doing with everything you've been given?"

"Exactly what I am expected to do, because I am a woman in a man's world. What are you doing with what you have? Let's pretend for one second I admit you are the better wizard – what good is it anyway? What good are you doing in the world, if we don't count driving first year mudbloods insane enough to drop out?"

"A hell of a lot more than you are," Tom hisses, walking past her to the back door. As soon as he's in the alleyway, he finds himself with the urge to return. He throws up his arms in the air in frustration before flinging the door open again. He knows he left something unfinished there - something more than just the conversation.

"Sit down," Tom orders, gesturing at the table. Vera, who was just about to go apologize to Black for using him, sits on it, clearly confused. Tom strides over to the door to the rest of the pub and shuts it before casting locking and silencing charms. Vera wonders if he means to duel it out once and for all and, if so, why she needs to be sitting.

Tom stands in front of her, pulling her hips forward so she's sitting just on the edge of the table. "I hate you and I want to fuck you."

Vera cannot believe that the infamously cold, prudish Tom Riddle could say such a thing. "Excuse me?"

"I barged in her because I've been thinking about fucking you since yesterday afternoon, and I damn well can't get any actual work done with it on my mind."

"Are you telling me that if I don't fuck you I can automatically win in all our classes?"

"That is one way of thinking about it. The other way is that I am so frustrated right now that I may go light something big on fire, and you don't want to be responsible for that, now do you?"

She reaches up, pushing him down by his shoulders until he's seated on the bench. She hovers over him, both knees at his side, and reaches down to run a hand along his trousers. He obviously reacts. "Well, I think I do still have some tricks to teach you."

* * *

><p>When they finish, Vera slides off him, pretty much laying down against the table to regain her breath. She looks at him from the corner of her eye, her head still bent back suggestively, as she asks, "What happened to being immune to my tricks?"<p>

"I don't hate you any less, and you won't get me to be one of your fawning admirers no matter what you try, so your trickery clearly isn't working. I don't see why we can't repeat something we both enjoy as long as things don't get complicated."

"So then we can agree that it isn't a problem, because it won't change our opinions of each other. I intend to go on hating you for the rest of my life anyway."

"Enemies with benefits then."

"It will have to be a secret."

"Naturally."

"Glad we are in agreement," she stands, smoothing her robes. "Oh, and don't you dare hurt Black. If you think I've been bad so far, you probably don't want to see what happens if you touch him. Orion is like a brother to me. If I hadn't met him, I would have run away from Hogwarts a long time ago. You've met my parents. His are ten times worse. The boy doesn't need you hounding him too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hello again readers! The moment everyone has been waiting for all this time finally happened, and I hope you all enjoyed it. Next update is already written so it should be fairly quick. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! Please review :)


	13. Inadequacy

Tom doesn't feel any better over the next few weeks. Every time they argue he feels like ravaging her – hell, every time he _sees_ her he feels like ravaging her, the urge is just particularly bad after they argue.

Their first subsequent encounter had been after she had beat him in an Ancient Ruins oral pop quiz. She'd only gotten the last answer because Avery, who had been sitting next to her, had written it down for her. He had been so angry that she now had higher marks in all their classes that he'd pulled her behind a statue to curse her, only to end up in another compromising situation.

It happened again after he found her laughing with some idiot outside the Gryffindor common room when she was supposed to be doing patrols with him. He had just lead her to an empty classroom, lifted her up on the desk, and scolded her for speaking with such filth when she could be doing something much worse with him.

Nothing had even triggered the third time. He had just seen her walking through the library in search of a book and followed her back to the restricted section, where he'd taken her quickly against one of the bookshelves before they both returned to their studying.

The fact that the last time hadn't even been in private had led her to seek more discreet rendezvous. As she pointed out, anyone could have walked in, and then both of their reputations would have been ruined in a second. So instead she led him up to the Room of Requirement after their next rounds and showed him how to enter. From then on, they had met in the Room of Requirement occasionally, either after their patrols or after Tom left her a note.

* * *

><p>One day in late February, Tom leaves her a note asking her to meet him at eleven. Their patrols are at nine, and he doesn't bother to ask where she's going when she heads off in the opposite direction of the Slytherin common room afterward.<p>

He's waiting for her now. It's ten minutes past midnight, and she still isn't there. Finally, she walks in. He notices her stumble and knows she must be tipsy.

"How drunk are you?" Tom asks, raising an eyebrow.

She sits down on the armrest of the chair he's reading in and says, "Calm down, I just had a few shots of firewhiskey."

He stands and she moves over, taking his previous seat. Tom walks over to the fireplace, still feeling her eyes on him. When he turns back, she smirks and pulls a flask from a band under her skirt, "You should try some. You'd probably be more fun."

Tom raises an eyebrow at her, "I highly suspect you are an alcoholic."

Vera just shrugs, "Who isn't in this day and age, other than self-righteous bastards like you? What matters is that I am a functioning one."

Tom walks closer, trying to resist chuckling at her nonchalance. He leans over and tries to kiss her, but she pushes him away as usual. Tom is the boy she teases and pleases, the boy she does the things she doesn't allow other boys to do with. Kisses are for boys she can get something from, for boys who's attentions she delights in.

He ignores her, kissing down her neck before pulling her up so that she's standing.

"Get undressed and lay in bed," he orders, voice low and full of implication.

After she lays down, he approaches. He kneels over her before taking out his wand and doing a spell that ties her hands above her head.

"You were late," he growls, fingers trailing over her skin. This is the part he loves most, getting to touch every part of her amazing body. His lips trail everywhere they want to. Her arousal is his arousal, and he loves to watch her squirm under the pressure of his mouth and his slowly sweeping fingers. He catches her eye after a few minutes, "I feel a bit impatient. Maybe I'll just leave you here like this and go to bed."

She smirks up at him, expression strong despite the fact that her body is nearly jumping up at him, "Then why don't you just get it over with already?"

She is always impatient for him to take her, but he isn't as rushed as she is, despite the throbbing in his groin. He wants to enjoy this; to enjoy her. He had realized over the last few weeks that he really did like kissing her, perhaps even more than he liked the sex – he just had to make her weak enough to allow him to.

He pushes his lips down onto hers, ignoring the way she naturally tenses. After a few kisses, he flips her over so that she is on top of him. He holds her hips, pushing her down and taking her. He could let go right that second, but he holds back, waiting for her.

The feeling of having Vera Sinclair belong to him is wonderful. The feeling of being the one to have her most fully is what really makes Tom love these nights. He doesn't feel like a monster when he's with her. Everyone yearns after her, everyone wants her attention. And he has it. She had picked him. Even if it was just for something as trivial as meaningless sex, he feels like that means something.

When she finally screams his name out, it drives him over the edge, past a point he can even control. She's never said his name like that. He thinks it's probably the only time he's ever enjoyed hearing it.

She only waits a few seconds before she pulls herself away and rises to go to the bathroom. He hears her turn on the water and assumes she is taking a shower. She always does. It makes him wonder whether it is because she can't stand the filth of a half-blood on her skin, just as he can't stand the filth of a mudblood on his. After all, she had told him that her world, her perfect, extravagant, elitist world which even few pureblood families were allowed to enter, would never accept him.

He knows that he isn't her usual catch by any means. Apart from the boys she toys with here at Hogwarts, there seem to be really only two people that matter in her life, and even one of those is debatable. Nico and Dante. The two people who define her life. Both pureblood, rich, exceptionally well-educated, strong, charming, and cultured. And of course, Tom is charming and smart too – but he can't even pretend to have what they have, to have that sense of simply _having_ money. He has to admit it makes him worry sometimes and it makes him angry sometimes. She carries their gifts like badges of honor, and these are no ordinary gifts for teenagers to give, they are diamonds and rubies and silk and quills made of prized wood, and books signed by their famous authors. But Tom has nothing to give her – and he wonders if she would take it even if he did.

He sighs and stands up, cleaning the room and changing the sheets with a quick spell before getting dressed again and laying down to sleep. Maybe he will ask her to stay tonight. Maybe she won't want to go back to that party instead.

He waits for her to come back in and pull on her underclothes again before drawling, "Vera, you look much too exhausted to be going back to some useless party."

She finishes tying her hair up and then turns to him and suddenly smiles. To his surprise, she walks over to the bed and lays down, pulling the blanket over herself. He's a bit disappointed when she turns her back to him. He still wants to touch her. She simply says, "I cannot believe I am actually following your advice, but I do believe you're right."

He smirks and reaches out to wrap his arms around her. His long fingers entwine with hers, wrapped around her stomach.

She tilts her head back and stretches to kiss his cheek before whispering, "Goodnight Tom Riddle. You should be happy to know that you aren't nearly as irritating as I previously believed – other than your nasty habit of leaving bruises on my skin where people will see, so that I have to seem clumsy by making up stories about how I ran into a bookshelf."

He chuckles and drifts off peacefully. It is the first good sleep he remembers having in years – and it is the first time since his first kill that he doesn't have nightmares.

* * *

><p>After their particularly heated night, Tom feels very distracted in potions. His partner for the day is Regulus Black, because Vera has neglected to show up. He had decided to take advantage of Regulus' closeness to her and fear of him by using him as a kind of informer rather than cursing the living daylights out of him.<p>

She had been conspicuously absent when he had woken up. She'd had probably gotten up in the middle of the night and gotten drunk again, he thought. She always skipped potions when she was hungover, because it was the first class they had and Slughorn loved her enough that she could get away with it.

"Which party did Sinclair attend last night?" Tom asks drily while stirring the potion.

"There was a birthday celebration in the Ravenclaw common room. She left early though. Odd for her."

"So why's she gone again today?" Tom asks, pretending he doesn't know the reason she had left the party.

Regulus shrugs, "I heard she got in a duel with some girl who was jealous that her boyfriend liked Vera. Wouldn't have been such a big deal of course, since she did win, but apparently she hit her head quite badly and then fainted after breakfast, so Slughorn sent her to the Hospital Wing for the rest of the day. She's probably quite thrilled that she won't have to go to class."

Tom doesn't say anything in response. There's silence for a second as Regulus chops up their final ingredient.

"It's no wonder that Vera finally got in a duel with someone other than you," Regulus comments. "What with all the boys she's toyed with, some of them are bound to have girlfriends."

"I thought she stopped seeing that mudblood," Tom comments.

"She has. She's moved onto purebloods now. I suspect she's gotten tired of irritating everyone. She and Avery have been shagging in the quidditch locker rooms after practice. He thinks it's actually going to go somewhere. Which, of course, it won't. But he keeps getting disappointed that she never comes to the quidditch games. It's almost as if he doesn't know that she's been going to Hogsmeade every weekend as Parkinson's date, or that she's been making out with the Gryffindor quidditch captain on the side. That mudblood-lover will never leave me alone about her. Her mission to break the heart of every boy at Hogwarts seems to be going pretty well. You are quite lucky to be immune to her charms, " Regulus says casually.

Tom doesn't say anything, but he feels anger boiling in his blood. He had assumed it had just been him and perhaps a few stray kisses here and there when she was drunk. It had never occurred to him to ask her who else she was with. He had thought that the mudblood had been it and that, if she had him, she simply wouldn't bother finding another boy to toy with. Maybe this explained why she was nearly always late to their meetings, or why she never asked to meet him, or why she never said anything about how she spent her free time.

He thinks about not seeing her again. He knows he doesn't like to share. But then he can't help feeling a nagging worry for her.

* * *

><p>Avery walks next to Tom as they head to Charms. Without warning, Tom suddenly turns up the staircase to the fourth floor.<p>

"Where are you going?"

"Just attending to some personal matters. Make something up about why I won't be in class to tell Flitwick," Tom replies smoothly, continuing on his way.

When he gets to the Hospital Wing, she's the only one there. Vera is on the first bed on the right. He walks over to her quickly, staring down at her. She's asleep, laying there peacefully.

"Well, well," Madam Pomfrey says as she walks over to put a glass of water on the stand next to Vera's bed. "I must say, Mr. Riddle, that you were the last person I expected to visit Ms. Sinclair."

Tom turns up the charm he usually uses on teachers, "Just making sure she's well enough to attend to her Head Girl duties tonight. I wanted to have time to make other plans if necessary."

"Ms. Sinclair should be fine by dinner. Her heart is beating a bit rapidly, but some fluids should fix that," Madam Pomfrey says gently.

Tom tries to keep his face impassive, "And her head? I heard that she hit it."

Madam Pomfrey smiles as she says, "There aren't any signs that it's a major injury. It would be kind if you could keep an eye on her however."

Tom finally sits down in the chair beside Vera's bed, "Of course I will."

Pomfrey walks back to her office. When her back is turned, Tom stands and draws the curtains around Vera's bed. He stares at Vera for a few minutes before he sits down again, and then finally decides to reach out and take her hand.

Tom's pale fingers skim over Vera's tanned skin. He leans down and lays his head next to hers on the bed, closing his eyes and letting himself relax for a few minutes.

He suddenly looks up and realizes that Charms is nearly over. Sighing, he stands and grabs his book bag. He lets go of her hand, feeling almost reluctant to leave.

* * *

><p>Just as Madam Pomfrey had said, Vera is up in time to go to dinner. She is sitting at the far end of the table, surrounded by a group of guys. Tom sits across from his followers and engages in pointless conversation about classes, watching Vera out of the corner of his eye.<p>

Tom stands when she does, ignoring the fact that Avery is in the middle of a sentence. He doesn't bother excusing himself or giving any reason for suddenly leaving. He takes long strides toward the Slytherin common room in hopes of catching up to her, but instead of seeing her entering the dungeons, he finds her climbing up the staircase.

He brushes past her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a secret alcove behind one of the tapestries. Without thinking about it, he presses his lips roughly against hers before whispering, "Meet me in thirty minutes."

She looks away without bothering to try to struggle out of his hold, "I have plans tonight."

"Plans? Care to share what they are?" Tom asks with a smirk.

She sneers at him, "No, actually, I don't."

"Then I am going to assume they don't exist. Meet me in thirty minutes. We have some things to discuss."

She rips her arms away from him and storms out without another word.

* * *

><p>He is surprised when she actually arrives on time. She sits down on the couch across from Tom, turning to face him, "So how long is going to take? I've got a date at 9."<p>

He looks at her coldly as he says, "Well, that's just it, isn't it? Are you sleeping with everyone at this school?"

"I just assumed you knew that you weren't the only one. And besides, why should you care? I'm only sleeping with Avery, and I understood that you two were friends."

"I care because I do not want to catch some muggle-loving disease from your little Gryffindor pet."

"I've just stopped seeing him. He was quite boring. Always telling me not to go to parties and such, as if it was really his business," she says snidely.

"Perhaps you could stop seeing the other boys too. Or perhaps I could arrange their not seeing you," Tom replies icily.

"Perhaps I could arrange my not seeing you," Vera responds with a smirk.

"I would think that would be hard, seeing as we have patrols every night at 9, which also precludes you from attending your date."

She smirks and leans forward, teasing him by almost brushing her lips against his, "You almost sound jealous Tom."

"You should know I don't like to share Vera."

She stands up, smirking at him, "Then I suppose you won't have to."

He grabs her arm, pulling her back to him, "No, I won't, because if you don't stop seeing those boys, I will convince them to stop seeing you."

"You can't order me around Tom. I'm not one of your mindless minions, and you aren't one of my brainless boy toys. Nothing is compelling us to continue this arrangement, so I am calling an end to it right now."

He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her to him again before whispering menacingly, "I think it's for me to say when this is over."

She laughs at him as she moves away, "Just you dare try and touch me again and I'll throw you into the nearest wall."

He chuckles, "Like you could ever beat me in a duel, especially after spending so much time dating dolts rather than actually learning anything."

"You, Tom Riddle, are despicable," Vera says with a passive-aggressive smile as she walks toward the door.

"And you, Vera Sinclair, are the whore of Hogwarts. I would be surprised if I met a boy here you haven't had sex with yet. You probably shagged Dippet to become Head Girl," he replies coldly. She stares at him for a minute, looking impassive, as if she can't really believe what he just said. Finally, she turns and walks out of the room, swearing she will never return again. He can insult her dueling abilities, call her a slag, and act like a possessive bastard all he wants – he is_ Tom Riddle_ after all, being a bastard is pretty much the core of his very nature – but one thing she won't stand for is the implication that she doesn't deserve what she has worked so hard to earn these last six years.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hello my darling readers! I wanted to give you guys this short update because I am leaving for a trip and may not have any writing time for a few days to a few weeks. I will try my best to update sooner rather than later.

In other news, I started a tumblr with quotes and stuff I find interesting. It's my own personal blog and it doesn't have much on it yet, but if you'd like to interact with me (to ask questions about my fanfics or be friends or whatever) my tumblr is _littlephoenixwings. _I might also post preview quotes and such for my stories if enough people follow me! Also, if you are looking for something to read between updates, check out my other Tom Riddle story, Riddle and his Sphinx.

Hope everyone enjoyed thus update :) I would really be forever grateful if you left a review, so please go write something in that beautiful box...

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>v<p> 


	14. What You Wanted

It had been two weeks, but they hadn't talked since that day. She had shown up to patrols every night, but never spoken to him, not even in response to the insensitive comments he threw at her in hopes of provoking her. She had partnered with Orion for potions by getting him to ask Slughorn for extra help. She had avoided Tom in the rest of their classes too, moving to the back of the room so that he would stop throwing notes at her. She had stopped studying in the library and instead moved to the common room, which was always too full for Tom to be able to talk to her discreetly.

But she had also stopped going to parties and drinking every night. She had told Parkinson that she thought he was annoying and didn't want to see him any longer. Avery had been angry on Tuesday, because she'd told him he was far too boring for her and she was tired of his complaining.

She still has the boys who do her homework. She still has the boys who sit around her at meals and flatter her all the time and want her desperately, but she no longer seems interested in their attention.

She won't talk to him, and that infuriates Tom. She never replies to the notes he sends her or meets him after classes. He can't stand it. He realizes that no matter what he does, he can't help but be distracted by her. He hasn't spent any time on his horcruxes this year. Now that she is temporarily ignoring him, he spends a few hours everyday in the library trying to focus on researching possible objects.

It's Saturday morning. Vera comes down for breakfast around 8 to enjoy the nearly empty Great Hall. Tom comes down a few minutes later and, upon seeing the empty space next to Vera, sits down near her. Apart from a few first years chatting loudly at the other end, they are the only ones at the table.

Vera doesn't say anything, so he doesn't either. He does glance over at her and notice that the dark circles under her eyes have gotten worse. He wonders why Vera Sinclair, who always seems so happy and alive, isn't able to sleep; it must be why she came down early. Perhaps she is having nightmares like he does. He wants to ask, but he doesn't want to be the first one to give in and speak, unless it is for an insult about who she had slept with the night before.

Vera's owl flies down to her suddenly. She takes the letters from it and then glances at each one, spreading them out on the table next to her. He looks down and notices that one letter is from her parents, one from Nico, and one from Dante.

She is nearly done eating when Slughorn walks in. He smiles as he stands across the table from them. For a minute, Tom assumes Slughorn has come to bother him about a Slug Club meeting. Instead, Slughorn says, "Ah, Ms. Sinclair! Exactly the person I was looking for. Have you seen the Daily Prophet yet today?"

"No, professor. I hate to read the news first thing in the morning, it has a way of putting a damper on my day," she says with a smile.

Slughorn smiles back, "Well, there's an article here on the son of the Aleksi family – it seems as if he's donated 5 percent of his trust to the Universal Wizarding Education fund – and it mentions that your family knows his. The author also seems to think he'll be the next Italian Minister of Magic."

Her eyes widen, "Oh, Dante! Five percent – that would be around five million galleons I believe. Yes, I've known Dante since we were children, and yes, he does have goals to be the next Italian Minister of Magic. Actually, he's already gotten a job assisting the current minister next year. "

When Tom heard the figure, he couldn't quite believe that one person even had that much money, let alone twenty times that much. And that was just for until he inherited the family fortune.

Slughorn's smile widens, "It would seem that you two are close."

"Very. He's just sent me a letter. It was his eighteenth birthday yesterday. Probably complaining that I forgot, since I haven't sent him his gift yet." Vera notices Tom's annoyance, which makes her smirk grow as she continues, "Actually, perhaps I'll ask him to visit me for his birthday instead. It would be much nicer to give him his gift in person. Perhaps you'll get to meet him."

Slughorn seems almost overcome with happiness as he says, "That would be quite nice."

After Slughorn is gone, Vera summons a quill and parchment. She tears open the letter from her parents and reads it quickly before beginning to write. Tom hears her whisper, "This is just too perfect."

"What's too perfect?" Tom asks smoothly, hoping she will answer. She just glares at him. She opens Dante's letter next and writes a reply which isn't nearly as rushed as the one to her parents. He notices that she hasn't touched Nico's letter yet before she gets up and walks away.

* * *

><p>The school is buzzing with rumors the next Friday night. Tom doesn't much care to hear them until he hears someone mention Vera. She still hasn't talked to him. In fact, she's been even more distant during their patrols, walking at least three feet away from him at all times. He had grabbed her arm and tried to say something to her after their last meeting with the headmaster, but she'd said a curse that threw him back against the wall and then walked away before he could curse her back.<p>

The girl sitting next to him in Charms is gossiping in the middle of the lesson on Friday afternoon. He hates the fact that Vera had moved away from him only because it seems as if the the stupid girls in his classes have taken it as an invitation to sit next to him.

"Everyone's saying Vera's gotten her boyfriend to visit her," the Hufflepuff girl bubbled. "Apparently he's Italian, and rich, and very powerful. Oh, I can't wait for Hogsmeade! Perhaps I'll be able to steal him away, he sounds absolutely perfect."

The girl next to her giggles, "Steal him away from Vera? Like any boy in his right mind would leave her. Still, even a glimpse of him would give me something to dream about!"

The other girl huffs, "Vera is not all that amazing."

Tom rolls his eyes and hisses, "Would you _shut up_?"

The girls look at him, their eyes wide, before turning back to Flitwick quietly. He wants to tell them that Vera _is_ that amazing, but he wouldn't want anyone to think he actually has feelings for her.

Their next class is potions with the Ravenclaws. Tom makes a point of rushing ahead and catching up with Vera, who is always the first to leave Charms and the first to get to Potions on Tuesdays. As they walk into the room, Tom smirks because Slughorn is not there. He reaches out and grabs Vera's arm, pulling her toward the table they had shared only a few weeks ago.

"You are sitting with me from now on," he hisses into her ear. "I am tired of having to deal with these insipid fools that bother me with their mindless talk."

She tries to move away from him, but he won't let go. She turns her head to look him in the eyes as she says, "I thought I already demonstrated what would happen if you touched me again."

"Everyone else will be here in a few seconds, and if you don't sit down I will tell them all that you are engaged," he smirks as her facial expression changes to resentment. She takes the seat she has been avoiding for the last few weeks, a wave of impassiveness washing over her face. Tom sits down next to her as everyone fills in.

* * *

><p>Tom may have been able to force Vera to sit next to him again, but he had hardly been able to force her to speak to him in a polite tone. They insulted each other at least once a class, but Vera made a point to say very little else and to sit as far away from him as possible while still being at the same table. Tom made a point of touching her whenever he had the chance and insulting her at least ten times a class so that he could get her to at least acknowledge his presence.<p>

He's having dinner on Monday night. Vera is conspicuously absent, so he has been forced to actually pay attention to Black, Avery, Nott and Rosier's babbling for once.

"So, Orion, has Vera told you any good news lately? You know, seeing as you two are such good friends," Rosier asks.

Black frowns, wary of answering for fear of evoking Tom's anger, "No, she has not."

"Oh, right, she's hardly spoken to you in the last few days. Fallen out of favor?" Nott butts in.

Rosier glares at Nott before continuing, "Have you noticed any new jewelry? Perhaps she's been wearing a new ring?"

Black stares up at him, "Why would I care if she'd gotten new jewelry?"

"Well, there are rumors – actually, an odd lot of them, which even some professors seem to believe – that Vera's engaged to that Italian bloke who visited her last weekend. I thought I'd ask Slughorn, since he actually met the bloke, but he wouldn't say anything to confirm them. Of course, he was smiling and he didn't say they weren't true, so I figure they probably are."

Nott laughs bitterly, "Poor bloke. Probably doesn't realize that she's been seeing half of Hogwarts for the last few years."

"Well, she isn't seeing anyone at Hogwarts right now. And everyone that saw them together at Hogsmeade claims that they looked quite happy – in love even. I mean, it isn't as if none of us knew that Vera was bound to be engaged soon. She's a very eligible young witch with amazing looks, is actually smart, and has the purest blood in Hogwarts. Her parents were bound to have someone to promise her to before she finished school," Rosier retorts.

"Vera? In love? No such thing. Any bloke here will tell you that she's a heartless bitch. Probably just dealing with him because she has to – the engagement is probably all her parents doing," Avery says.

Tom finishes his food quickly and leaves before he has to listen to any more of this.

* * *

><p>He can't help but to ask while they're on patrol. The entire castle is quiet, but he feels as if there are people screaming inside of his head. He knows she's been engaged all along, but it had been to a bloke she hated too much to ever willingly marry. Now, it's supposedly to Dante, and for some reason he doesn't like the idea that she may actually love the man she has to marry.<p>

"So..." Tom starts, unsure how to phrase his question without sounding too interested in the matter.

"Don't bother asking," Vera says briskly. She holds her left hand up in the light for him to see. Surely enough, a diamond glitters on her ring finger.

"And how'd you manage that?"

"Very simple actually. I wrote a letter to my parents informing them of what the Daily Prophet had said about Dante. Then we had a bit of a … discussion about who the most advisable match would be, and I persuaded them over to my side with two very simple points. Dante and I can actually hold a conversation that's longer than five minutes and therefore would be much more likely to have a successful marriage. And, unlike Nico, Dante has a very bright mind and is determined to do something with it, which will guarantee us plenty of fame and fortune on top of our inheritances. The story was just the thing to convince them that a marriage to Nico would be disadvantageous. I believe he was quite angry. Dante sent a letter to them asking for my hand and they approved, so he came down Saturday to give me the ring and ask me himself."

"How romantic," Tom says sarcastically.

Vera giggles at his tone, "I suspect you are just angry because now you have nothing to hold over me, as after today the entire castle will have realized I am engaged."

"And did you happen to tell your new fiancé that you had sex with me even though you are apparently madly in love with him?" Tom asks edgily.

She smiles, "Well, that was before I was committed to him, wasn't it?"

"I don't think he would see it quite so simply," Tom points out.

"I don't intend for him to learn about that," Vera says icily.

"Then I do believe I still have something to hold over you. And this is actually much worse for you than the last secret."

"But, you see Tom, I know you will never tell. You will never admit you were weak enough to fall for my charms," she responds with a smirk. He stays quite because he knows what she said was true. "But don't worry, I've gotten over being angry at you, just as you have no doubt gotten over being attracted to me. We can continue as we were before we got involved and simply spend the remaining few months at school picking at each other again."

* * *

><p>Vera Sinclair is back to her usual self. She is back to laughing at Tom Riddle when she makes a potion or masters a spell quicker than he has and insulting him whenever possible. She is back to charming the boys who surround her everyday – though most of them now know that she will never do anything with them – and making the girls jealous. She is back to being the queen of the school. And it looks like Dante is angling to make himself her king.<p>

"Apparently Vera's got her fiance visiting her at Hogsmeade again this weekend," Rosier drawls. "Did you see the ring? It's huge. Has to be worth at least 25,000 galleons."

Tom and his followers are sitting in the library. Tom doesn't reply as he polishes off the last sentence of his essay.

In her room, Vera is laying on the bed. She has a Ravenclaw doing her potions essay, and one Slytherin doing her Charms homework while another does her Transfiguration essay. Ever since she'd learned a spell that let her make any handwriting look like her own in her third year, she'd spent very little time on actually doing any work herself. After that, she had kept herself entertained with parties and such – but now that she is actually engaged, she can't do that anymore, and therefore is incredibly bored. She sighs and stands up. Perhaps she will go to the library and try to find a book to read since she feels like learning a little something about history.

When Vera walk in, Avery says, "Look, the little witch has decided to grace us with her presence." Tom knows that Avery is still angry that Vera said she never really cared for him. Since the day she had stopped seeing him, he hasn't stopped launching insults her way – at least the kinds of insults his dull brain could come up with.

Tom stands suddenly, saying he needs to go get a book for his Transfiguration essay.

"I figured you would follow me. Come to get revenge for my comments during potions today? I really didn't think it was that awful – until Dumbledore explained to me just why you would have launched that stunning spell at me right after," Vera says as she sees him entering the row of bookshelves she is in.

He flinches as he remembers what she had said to him while they were making a love potion in class. He'd nearly forgotten about that. Despite her words, she offers him no apology. He remains silent, pretending he is looking for a book even though he knows that he doesn't need one from this section of the library.

"I didn't mean it by the way – what with your looks, you would never need a love potion to make a girl fall for you," Vera says softly, finally looking up at him. She did actually feel incredibly bad for bringing up the memory of his mother.

He stares at her coldly, "Well, apparently you weren't charmed."

She laughs but then suddenly looks away. She recognizes this as one of those vulnerable moments where they are both apt to admit and do things they will regret, and she wants to be careful, but his charming blue eyes can be so disarming sometimes. "I think I can actually stand living with Dante. Anyway, I can't screw it up this time, otherwise my parents will just send me back to Nico. I've got to be the perfect little angel, at least until July."

"July?" he asks, his unsettling stare unwavering.

"We're getting married in July. It's a bit rushed, but my mother will arrange everything so it isn't as if I have to worry about that."

"You sound quite happy," Tom says calmly.

She smiles bitterly, "As happy as I'll ever be. Tell me Tom, did you ever actually feel anything for me?"

He refuses to answer. She looks around and, upon seeing that nobody is near them, walks closer to him.

"I want an answer," Vera whispers. He still doesn't say anything. She walks closer, only a few inches separating them now. She repeats the same thing. He looks at her again, but his mouth is still closed tightly. She moves closer again, only an inch between them now. He still won't say anything. He feels her body pressing against his as she takes the last step toward him.

Their lips almost brush as she asks, "Well, did you?"

He can't hold back anymore. As she sees the glint in his eyes, she assumes he will either storm away or yell at her. Maybe he will even try to duel her. After all, she has surely exceeded her quota for annoying Tom without him cursing her and she is pretty sure those Amortentia comments had earned her enough of his contempt to last all month. Maybe if he didn't feel like dueling he would come up with a searing comment that would have her running off nearly in tears again instead – something about how no one would ever care for someone as useless as her.

Instead, he does the last thing she expects him to do. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and lifting her up a bit so that he can press his lips against hers. She tries to pull away, but he doesn't loosen his hold on her. He forces her lips open and explores her mouth with his tongue, holding her tightly.

After he lets go of her lips to take a breath, Vera says, "Don't do that again."

"You tempted me," he responds, smirking down at her. She looks away from him and reaches back to try to remove his arms. He realizes he doesn't want her to go, so he answers, "What if I actually did feel something for you? Would that change things?"

Her arms drop to her side, hopeless, lost. Tom is the last boy who should feel anything for her. That's why she thought he was such a safe bet for her last fling before married life kicked in. That's why she hadn't stopped him the second he had first kissed her in that hallway. She had been craving an escape from feelings, and she had thought he could take her mind off them – he, the boy who she was sure felt nothing but hatred.

Vera resists the urge to fall back into him, to fall back into something that means nothing and yet feels so good. She knows his words are just an empty attempt to own her again, because what else can they be for a boy like him?

"I love Dante," she says, pushing his arms away.

"He doesn't have to know," Tom whispers wickedly in her ear.

Vera shakes her head and walks away from him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I made a mistake :( The character I had as Regulus Black for the first chapter and the last one is supposed to be Orion Black. I changed it for consistency with the timeline. So, when I refer to anyone with the last name Black in this story I mean Orion Black, Sirius and Regulus' father.

Funny story, I actually edited this a while back, then I started school and totally forgot that I had already finished it. So here it is now. I'm really hoping I'm staying true to Tom's character. Even though I'm trying to show him changing and having emotions, I don't want that to take away from his canon role. Please let me know if you think anything is out of character!

I would really appreciate any feedback you guys have on character development, so please review :)


	15. (Not So) White Lies

When Tom had thought about seeing Vera again, it definitely had not been in this context. Actually, he had never really imagined a group of 20 first-years staring at him as Vera, frustrated that she can't get the broom closet open, mutters some very age-inappropriate things.

She huffs as the door finally caves in, stepping aside to let all the children grab a broom. Tom is still trying to figure out why they are expected to teach the flying class this week, given that he has not been on a broom since his first year and he figures Vera has never deigned to ride one – why bother when she can have servants carry her around instead? Just because that nitwit of a professor broke his arm again that morning, it does not mean they should be forced out of class for such a stupid endeavor.

He turns, provoked by the squeaking of one of the small children.

"That's a Comet 220," one of the first-year Hufflepuff boys nearly screams, reaching out to touch the broom Vera has summoned to her.

Vera leans down, smiling, "Oh, are we playing a game where we point out super obvious things? I'm totally going to win. You need a haircut and a lesson in manners!"

The boy frowns, "That broom isn't even on sale yet."

That condescending smile is still on Vera's face, "Yes, there are some things money can't buy. Only because you need much more than just money to get them."

"Can I try it? Please?"

"Maybe next lesson," Vera stands and, after shooting a brief glance at Tom sulking in the corner, calls the class to order. "Now, I assume you have already been taught all the basics. We'll just do a quick review and then run through a course. Please summon your brooms and take three laps around the pitch, _slowly_. I expect everyone to be in the same order when they land."

After the students fly off, Vera sets out enchanting the rings to create a course. She looks over at Tom, "Can I get some help?"

"It seems like you are doing fine. I'll just finish my Charms essay and you can teach the rest of the class," Tom replies, ready to walk out.

"I'm sure Dippet will be thrilled to hear how well you are doing in Charms," she replies sarcastically before spelling a few rings his way. "Just put these up around the outside of the pitch, each about a foot higher than the previous one."

Tom does as she asks, frowning the entire time. He does not want to be around her again, not like this. He had never been so embarrassed in his whole life. Who knew that, after all the pranks she'd gone out of her way to pull on him, she could undo him with something so simple as three small words? He sulks back to the benches inside the pitch after completing his task and returns to marking up his Charms book until she tells him to record the time of each student as they finish the course.

Vera finally comes into his view again near the end of the class, flying into his area of the pitch with one of the young Ravenclaw witches. The girl is carrying her broom and obviously looks disappointed, "You can do it, you just aren't used to it. Watch, I'll show you and then you'll get the idea."

She doesn't just fly through the rings as Tom expects. Instead, she flies up gradually until she is nearly just a speck in the sky. It looks as if a shooting star is passing when she dives down and maneuvers through the rings backwards, weaving and spinning as if she's done this every day of her life. She does the whole track three times, each with more fantastic loops and daring detours than the last, before landing next to the girl again.

"See, it's easy once you get the hang of it," Vera says with a smirk. "You just need more practice."

"I'll never be that good. I don't even have my own broom," the girl says dejectedly.

"Here, have mine. It's old so it probably fits you better anyway," Vera says, smiling down at her as she hands over her broom. "I actually recognize you from somewhere. Have we met before?"

The girl looks nervous, "My father's the baker by your manor. You used to come in to pick up bread. You always had such nice dolls. You have the bread delivered now."

"Oh, that little green bakery! I nearly forgot how wonderful it was. Your father is very talented. What's your name again?"

"Cora."

"It's nice to see you again Cora. Why don't you go and practice a little more? There's still twenty minutes of class left."

Vera smiles to her before she leaves, then turns to Tom, raising an eyebrow at his expression, "I think you are scaring the children with that face."

"You are teaching them. They should be scared," he retorts. "What's the next lesson, how to drink an entire bottle of firewhisky in one night?"

She smiles back bitterly, "I thought I would let you take charge of the next one. So it'll be how to be a psychopath, correct?"

Tom smirks, "No, I think I'll just demonstrate a few curses for them."

Vera just walks away to coral the kids back and start collecting the brooms. She ends the class and lets those who want to leave go before starting to take down the rings. After everyone is gone, she starts stuffing the brooms back in the closet.

"You know what would be a great help? If you actually did something besides standing still with that grim look on your face," she calls out as the brooms fall back on her.

"No thank you," he responds, flicking past another page of the book.

"Your ego is bigger than your broomstick."

Tom is never the one to do this, but he goes with the innuendo. He's so frustrated that he can't fuck her that he's woken up in the middle of dreams about it every night, and quite a few days, this week. "You would still ride it, wouldn't you?"

Vera just laughs a great big laugh and walks away, letting all the brooms fall on the ground for him to pick up.

* * *

><p>The effects of the horcruxes are adding up. He thought this wouldn't happen at least until his fifth or sixth one. In addition to being unable to sleep through the night, he's been feeling nauseous. He can't remember the last time he's eaten solid food. He nearly fainted in class the other day. Several people have commented on how pale he looks. It's all quite terrible, and it's starting to interfere with his schoolwork.<p>

Tom finally straightens up over the sink after ten minutes of coughing. He takes out his handkerchief, one of the embroidered ones that Vera bought him, and wipes his mouth, only to look down and see blood on it. How can he be getting worse? He can't imagine a worse. He looks up at the mirror and sees his eyes looking cloudy and grey, his skin nearly white. He goes down to dinner, picking at the plate in front of him until an owl lands on the bench nearby. It's one of the Hogwarts owls. He's surprised when it walks up to him. Who would send him a package?

The small box is bright green. The attached silver tag has "Open me" written in flowing handwriting on it. He grabs the box before walking out and down to his room. When he gets there he pulls the silver ribbon off the box, letting it fall open only to see a few golden vials inside. They too have a tag – "Drink me." Tom stares at them curiously. They could be poison. He finds a small slip of paper inside with the usual medicinal format, except that the information reads "Treats: Everything. Side effects: None. Dose: One vial." Can such a potion even exist?

Well, even if it's poison, it's worth a try. He feels like throwing up. Or fainting. His head is foggy. And having a cold will only suffice as an excuse for so long.

Tom knocks one back. He waits a few minutes, toying with the rest of the vials. And then he suddenly feels hungry. And sleepy. Like actually taking a very long, very restful nap. Merlin, he can't remember the last time he's woken up well rested. Except he can and it was probably with Vera, which makes him wince.

First food. Something delicious that he would usually never eat. Maybe some cake. He walks back to dinner, an unusual spring in his step, and catches his reflection on a window. He looks like he's alive again. Tom slips in next to his followers again, finding his plate still warm.

* * *

><p>Vera watches Dante staring at the booklet over their cups of tea that weekend.<p>

"You should probably flip the page, it gets much more interesting after the first sentence," Vera says.

Dante puts the pages down, looking up at her, "Can't we just have tea?"

"I wanted to know what you thought," she says, wanting him to backup her pride in the story she had written. She had thought of it the night before and drawn it up into a little booklet. She actually quite liked it. Perhaps it could even sell and be popular.

"I'm sure it's great," Dante says. "But don't you think you should be spending your time in less frivolous ways?"

"Less frivolous ways? Like what?" Vera asks.

"Planning our wedding perhaps," Dante says with a shrug, hoping to change the subject.

"Oh, yes, planning events is not at _all_ frivolous. I'll go to London and spend the entire day tomorrow picking out which flowers to put in front of the entrance," she fires back.

"I would hope that after all these years you would be excited enough to actually help with the planning."

"You know I am not interested in that sort of thing."

"What are you interested in, writing fairytales?"

"So what if I am? What is so terrible about that?"

"We're engaged now. We're adults. It's time to be serious."

She hates that, how everyone thinks she is some kind of ridiculous child. What about the fact that she is head girl and about to be Hogwarts' top student says that she isn't taking things seriously? She tries to resist glaring at him as she says, "I am serious. I'm just not interested in planning some stuffy event."

"It's not a stuffy event, it's _our wedding_," he points out.

"We're getting married, isn't that what you wanted? I couldn't care less about the stupid ceremony our parents are using to show off."

Dante tries to remain calm as he pours another cup of tea, "I can tell you don't care from the fact that you don't even know the wedding was moved."

"The wedding was moved?" She asks, resisting the urge to slam her teacup back on the table.

"Yes. I moved it to Italy."

"You moved the wedding?"

"I found the perfect house for us right over the ocean and thought we could have it there. I asked your parents and they said it was fine. In fact, they loved the house."

"You didn't think to ask me? Well, I'm sure if they love it, I will absolutely hate it."

"You love the Italian coast. I thought you would be thrilled."

"Thrilled? About what, the fact that _you_ moved _our_ wedding without even talking to me first?"

"About the house. About where we are going to start our new life together! I just wanted to surprise you."

"No, I'm the one starting a new life in another country. You're the one who's probably just a few miles away from your parent's villa. I wanted one last thing in London before I left, and you decided to take it away."

"Do you want to move it back to London? We can move it back. We can live here if you'd like. I'll change jobs. I'll buy a new manor for us. Whatever it takes Vera. You know I have always been willing to do whatever it takes for us."

There's silence for a few seconds before she nearly whispers, "I'm sure the house is fine. I'm sure the wedding will be fine."

He seems to be the one who's angry now, "Fine Vera? Marrying me is just fine?"

"What is wrong with the word fine?"

"It's the same word you used to describe marrying Nico."

"What word am I supposed to use?"

"Wonderful. Magnificent. Sublime. Lovely. Fantastic. Incredible. Delightful. Marvelous. Terrific. Amazing. Anything other than _fine_. Personally, I am partial to fantastic."

"I want to be married to you. I don't want to sit through some elaborate ceremony that my mother and apparently you have total control over. Can that just be good enough? I'm not going to pretend to be excited about some ridiculous party."

"That's what I am saying Vera. It is not a ridiculous party. It's a wedding. If you are excited about marrying me, you should be excited about the day when that will happen. Do you know how many nights I've spent dreaming about that day? Have you even thought about what your dress will look like?"

She's never felt so small before, not even while talking to her parents. She would expect this sort of thing from them. She doesn't care about a bloody dress. She has a thousand dresses, and she can't imagine this one looking much different from all of them. He's known this entire time that she doesn't care about things like that, but apparently now that she's an _adult_ she has to spend all her time wondering about the stupid details of some stupid ceremony that she's never wanted.

So this is what being engaged is really like, even when that engagement is not to someone she already detests. Would any boy ever just let her be herself? She can't help the fact that her mind flashes back to Tom. Vera just looks down, "I'll go and look for a dress tomorrow."

"My mother can just send you a few options if you'd like."

"No, I want to go. I think it all just seems so far away to me. Finding a dress will help make it seem more concrete. I'll invite your mother to come. We can make a day of it."

"It's fine Vera. You don't have to pretend you care. I'm sure our mothers have almost everything planned already anyway."

"I do care. I'm excited. I can't wait to see the house. I know it'll be perfect for us if you thought so."

* * *

><p>Tom is mad. She missed patrols again. He usually wouldn't be surprised except that she's actually been doing her work for the last few months. It's been a long time since he had to walk the castle halls alone.<p>

He thinks of cursing her when he hears her voice from outside of the common room, except that when he walks inside he sees her sitting at the center of a crowd of first and second years, reading from a makeshift book. There's a storm raging outside, so he knows many of the younger children must be having trouble sleeping. When he was younger, he used to lie awake all night whenever he heard thunder.

He stands in the entrance of the common room until she arrives at the last page, finishing the story off by saying, "The princess had a new throne made so that the man who had taught her kindness could rule beside her. And they lived happily ever after."

She says goodnight to all of them as they wander out rubbing their eyes before wrapping herself more tightly in her sweater and starting on her History of Magic reading. Tom finally steps out and heads toward his room.

Vera spots him and speaks up, "I forgot about patrols. It won't happen again."

Despite his best intentions, Tom turns to her, "What were you reading?"

"Oh, just some silly story I found."

"I liked it."

"It was stupid. Frivolous."

He shrugs, "I don't think so. Obviously it helped put the little brats at ease."

She looks away from him again, reminding herself to keep her distance by pressing her ring into the palm of her other hand, "Goodnight."

* * *

><p>"I still cannot believe you are engaged," Orion mutters, popping open another bottle of wine. Though it clearly contradicts the rules, they are sitting on the top of the astronomy tower at almost midnight, a few bottles of fancy Pinot Noir already discarded.<p>

"Neither can I."

"Don't pretend it wasn't arranged before. You didn't tell me. I sit through your mother's fucking Christmas dinner and Midsummer Eve's Ball and all that other high society bullshit every year, commiserating with you, and you didn't tell me. I should have figured it was going to be to him."

"And why is that?" she prods, wondering if he has picked up on all the secrets they are not always the best at keeping.

"Your family is _the_ royal family of English wizarding society. His is Italy's counterpart. It's like they married you off to him the second you were born."

She scoffs. For all the terrible things she thinks about her parents, she does not want to think that this engagement was what they had intended all along. Even if it does explain exactly why she and Dante had spent so much time together as children. "There were plenty of other options, I'm sure, not that I got to evaluate any of them. My father definitely would have drawn up an extensive list, most likely including you."

Orion laughs, "Don't try to flatter me. My family is only like the second duchy or something."

"But you are destined for great things. Definitely the brightest of this Black generation."

He thinks of Tom and the gang and all of those plans that are so well drilled into his head by now. He knows Vera does not care about blood purity – it isn't a thing for her to care about, because she never has to associate with anyone who isn't from the very best of the best bloodlines. But his parents have taught him the importance of it, and he will be sure to make them proud.

"And still, I probably won't get a good match. Walburga is looking like a more likely choice every day."

"I'm sure Walbugra won't be that bad."

"Can't be as good as Dante. It's a shame I don't know him better. That Daily Prophet article really made him seem like something."

"He really is something – the son of the Daily Prophet's publisher."

"You sound absolutely thrilled to be getting married," he comments sarcastically in response to her tone.

"Better enjoy your freedom while it lasts," Vera says, raising her glass for a toast. "If being engaged is already this boring, imagine what married life is like."

"I don't think you'll survive even a second of it," he responds with a laugh.

"That's what life is though, isn't it? Surviving what you never thought you could."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** It feels like it's been too long. The plot bunnies have been spawning in my head for this story, but it takes me a while to make sure I keep all the relationships evolving in a straightforward way. I am super excited to put up the next chapter because it's way more intense, but had to get through this part first. I still find it a little confusing that this is my less popular story considering that I actually find the characters in here way more compelling. Anyone who has read the other one want to agree or disagree?

As always, _I would love_ for you to review right down there. I am so open to incorporating any feedback from my darling readers :)


	16. Sticks and Stones

Tom is wandering down the street, looking at the sidewalk as he thinks about the interview he just had at Borgin and Burkes. He feels himself bump into something and looks up to see a muggle staring at him.

"Watch where y'er going arsehole," the man nearly shouts. He vaguely recognizes him as someone who used to live in the orphanage before he came of age.

"On the contrary, you should watch where _you_ are going muggle," Tom mutters, trying to move around the man and his friends but finding himself stuck on the narrow sidewalk.

"What do you guys think the bloody blighter just said?"

"I think he called you a prat," one of his friends says, stepping forward.

"Ayy, did you call me a prat?" the man screams at him, despite the fact that he is still only inches away from Tom.

"No, I did not. I do not think that needs to be said," Tom comments, glaring at him.

"Look at you, with y'er prim and proper English," the man says, pushing Tom.

Tom shoves the man's arms down, "Touch me again and you will be in big trouble. Now move aside."

"You think you own the sidewalk or somethin'? I can stand here if I wanna. Whatcha gonna do ya skinny Billy no-mate?"

Tom is just pulling out his wand when he feels a hand on his arm. He looks up again, confused, only to see Vera standing next to him on the sidewalk.

"Hi boys. I think it's best you leave my friend here alone," Vera says, half-smiling at them. She lets go of Tom's arm and, oddly enough given the clear skies, reaches for her parasol. "See, I've taken quite a few sword fighting classes, and I don't think your little knife there would be a match for my dagger."

She twists the handle of her umbrella slightly, revealing a bit of a blade.

"Let's go mate. She's the duke's daughter anyway," one of the man's friends says as they begin to shuffle back. Within seconds, they are literally running in the opposite direction.

"I was going to handle that myself, you know," Tom says bitterly. If he hadn't been surprised by running into her in a muggle part of London over their Easter holidays, he would have cursed the insolent boys.

"Yes, and you would have broken magical law in broad daylight. Such riff raff is not worth that risk," Vera says, lifting up the skirt of her dress a little. She has a holster strapped to her thigh and pulls out a small, folding knife from it. "Here, you might need this if you intend to keep pissing off muggles."

"I don't want a muggle weapon."

"Alright, though they can be quite fun sometimes. At least let me walk you wherever you are going. No doubt those boys will be hanging around looking for revenge."

He swallows thickly, looking away from her. He's going back to the orphanage. He doesn't want her to see it. He pretends to be proud, "I'll be fine by myself."

"I know you can take care of yourself. I just don't want you to do anything stupid and get kicked out of Hogwarts, because that would kind of take away from my pride when I win pupil of the year." He starts walking. To his dismay, she follows. They are three blocks in when she speaks up. "I'm going to follow you whether you want me to or not, but I think the walk would be more pleasant if you gave in."

Tom stops in his tracks at the side of the ratty park he used to play in as a child. He leans against the half-wall separating the spotty grass from the cracked sidewalk and looks down, feeling himself toying with the corner of his lip. She's standing directly in front of him, still refusing to move.

"What's wrong?" Vera whispers.

He snickers at her tone, "Nice doesn't really work well on you. Just leave. It's what you're good at anyway."

"I'm not being nice, I'm just looking out for my own self-interest. There wouldn't be any worthy competition left at Hogwarts if they locked you up in Azkaban," she responds defensively.

He's quite for a few minutes, hoping she will just leave. To his surprise, she reaches out and picks up his hands in hers, thumb soothingly moving across his palm. Merlin, how long has it been since she touched him? He looks up only to see that she actually appears concerned. It's the first genuine emotion he ever remembers seeing her have for him – even her hatred seemed contrived in comparison.

Tom's eyes shoot down again, avoiding looking at her as he speaks, "I don't want you to start judging me for where I came from again."

Vera actually leans down, taking his chin in her hands and lifting it up so that she's looking at his face instead of his mop of black hair, "I never really cared about that. I was angry that you were better than me at magic. I was angry at myself because I had all those years to practice it and you just knew how to do it. I thought everything came so easily to you, and I wasn't used to things being hard for me."

In his logical mind, he knows she is treating him just like she would any of her other boys, pretending to be sweet in order to get him to open up. She's probably just trying to gather even more things to make fun of him for, deduce yet more ways she is infinitely better than him. There is no other explanation for her kindness. Except just this once Tom doesn't _want_ to find an explanation, he just wants to believe that what he sees on her face, what she's saying, is real.

"I hate the orphanage."

"I know, but just a few more months, right?"

He nods and regains the strength to stand up. To his surprise, she keeps a hold of his hand as they walk. She even keeps holding it as they reach the run-down square of a building, passing through its large iron gates.

Ms. Cole is standing in the hallway scolding one of the other children when they walk in. She stops halfway through, straightens up, and stiffly asks, "Tom, did you bring a guest?"

Tom rolls his eyes, expecting to get in trouble for yet another trivial thing, "Yes, I did."

"Why don't you introduce me to your lady friend then," Ms. Cole suggests as if she doesn't actually see Vera.

She just steps forward, reaching out a hand for a shake, "Tom and I go to school together. Vera Sinclair."

"Oh, Miss. Sinclair! I wasn't expecting to be greeting you into the halls of our institution … Tom never mentioned … of course, there are a few ongoing repairs … I could get you some tea though if you'd like, perhaps I could make some biscuits if you don't mind a wait."

"I am fine, thank you for the offer. Tom and I will just go upstairs to talk – unless there's some kind of rule about that?"

"No, no, of course not, Miss Sinclair. Please tell your father I said hello."

"What was that about?" Tom asks as they are walking up the stairs. He supposes he now has permission to ignore the rule about no girls in the boy's rooms. And that perhaps the hot water is finally back on.

"My grandfather sort of built this place, and my father keeps up his donations," Vera says, purposefully looking away. She thinks he will interpret this as just another sign of how rich she is. They get into his room before she adds, "That's why all the magical children end up here. I mean, most of them still aren't, of course, because it can't go around being announced that's it meant for wizards to the muggles, but the wizards know."

"Did that have anything to do with how you knew I was an orphan when school began?"

"… I might have peeked into my father's books," she admits.

"Your father the duke?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"It hardly means anything nowadays. Just that he's got a lot of land. That's kind of what my family legacy is all about actually, secretly manipulating muggles for the gain of wizard-kind for centuries. Of course, in their ideal world, it wouldn't be all that secret."

Vera finally looks around the small cinder block room when she stops talking. After a spin around, she plops down on the bed. "It looks ... drab, to be honest. I would have hoped my grandfather had better decorating skills."

Tom shrugs, still standing in the center of the room. "It's home. Not a particularly happy or nice one, but it is what I have. It would be better if it was just for wizards."

Vera just stares down at the bedsheets. She seems sad. He doesn't now why exactly, but there is just an air of it about her despite her cheery smile. "I know this is a bit odd, but do you want to come have dinner at my place? My parents are at the country house."

* * *

><p>Vera looks down at the shoes on the mat curiously as they walk into the manor on the outskirts of London, "Dante?"<p>

"Back here," a voice calls from outside the double doors to the balcony. Vera walks out, telling Tom he can wait in the sitting room if he doesn't mind. She doesn't realize he can still hear everything through the open window. "Darling, you have a visitor. She dropped by to give you a present and mentioned something about flying, so I thought perhaps we'd take the old brooms out for a spin."

She looks over at the girl hovering a few feet above the air on a broom and smiles, "Cora, it's so nice to see you again! Dante, could we talk for a minute?"

"Of course," Dante walks over to where she is still standing on the threshold. "Did the dress fitting go alright?"

"Oh, yes, it was fine. I thought you weren't coming until Wednesday."

"The fellows wanted to go out on the town tonight to celebrate James' birthday and then have a fox hunt tomorrow, so I decided to come two days early. I'm sorry, I assumed you would like that after you said you were lonely in this big house."'

Vera holds back a sigh. Boys. Of course they assumed that fox hunts just _happened _without any planning. "Shouldn't you be changing soon if you are going out?"

"It's just dinner and drinks, we aren't even meeting until 7."

"Alright. Owl them that they can meet here and bring their hunting gear if they'd like, since I am sure they'll just come back here once all the bars close. I'll call the chauffeurs back to accompany you all out to town."

"What happened to all the servants? Even the cook is gone."

"I sent them home for the day. You know I don't like people snooping around – it always feels like they are trying to gather information for the tabloids or, worse yet, my mother. Don't worry, I'll send them instructions for the hunt tomorrow right away so everything will be prepared."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Why don't you come play with us?"

"I was going to start dinner soon."

"Why so early? If you'll be the only one here, why not just heat up something the cook left?"

"I actually have another guest today. I ran into Tom on my way back."

"And why did you invite him over? I thought you two weren't friends."

"I thought you weren't coming so I figured why not have some company," she replies with a shrug. "Do you not want him here?"

"No, it's fine, I think it's just a bit curious is all. You still have hours until dinner, just invite him out to play with us."

Vera pulls Tom outside, promising he doesn't actually have to get on a broom. He can go and see the gardens or something. He walks out toward the patch of roses and fountains, still hearing them in the background.

"So, you want to play a quick game?" Dante asks.

"Yes! It'll help me get ready for tryouts for the school team next year," the little girl chirps back.

"Well Vera can really help with that. She's great at quidditch," Dante answers.

"You used to play quidditch?" Cora asks her in awe.

"No, not really," Vera answers, her tone betraying a bit of annoyance.

Dante doesn't seem to pick up on it, "I've never heard her be so modest! We used to play all the time, and she would always absolutely clobber my ten-year-old self in it. If I hadn't faced such stiff competition, there's no way I would have made my school team."

"Why didn't you join the team?" Cora asks.

"My parents informed me that quidditch was a sport for boys and told me it was indecent for me to ride a broom again. But they're old fashioned, you shouldn't let such talk stop you," Vera says, forcing a smile as she opens the case which holds the balls.

* * *

><p>Dante is not oblivious. It sometimes seems like she thinks he is, which is why he has played witness to so many of the boys she toyed around with. But he can tell when she is keeping a secret from him and when she is interested by a boy, and he can surely tell that Tom is both a secret and an infatuation. He knows just from the way the boy looks at her.<p>

But Dante is also too good to play her games. He is too good to get jealous or provoke her with questions. No, he's much smarter than that.

So, right before he is about to leave for dinner, he asks her if she can spare a moment to discuss something, then pulls her into the smoking room right behind the kitchen, purposely leaving the door just the tiniest bit ajar.

Vera sits down on a chair facing the fireplace, directly across from the room's entrance, expecting them to talk about hunting arrangements. Instead, she looks down as Dante kneels in front of her confidently. He starts to run his hands along her thighs, pushing her dress up before grazing her underwear.

Surprised, Vera exclaims, "Dante, we have compa..."

Before she can finish, he pulls her legs apart and pushes her underwear down to the ground. She's startled by the feeling of his warm breath on her. He smirks at her expression, "Well, you had better try to be quite then."

Her hands curl around the chair's arms as his mouth gets to work on the most sensitive part of her. Tom hears her begin moaning and gasping and tries to pretend he doesn't care. And he almost manages it until, after they are done, he hears her giggle and kiss him before saying, "No wonder I love you Dante."

* * *

><p>The way Vera cooks is very distinct. It is not the cooking of a professional chef or that of someone just trying to put food on the table. It's a little of both and yet neither one. Her ingredients are rich, her style haphazard. She gets Tom involved, teaching him a little of this and that. He's never seen her so excited about doing something before, which only adds to his surprise at the fact that she doesn't have everything done for her.<p>

They end up in a debate over the role of the Wizengamot in making wizarding law that extends well past dinner is over. It ends only when the boisterous noises of Dante and his school friends arriving bounce all the way up to the library. She rushes down to make them their drinks and introduces all of them to Tom. The way Dante raises his eyebrow at him clearly conveys the fact that he'd thought he would be gone by now. They put on music and get wrapped up in lively conversation, Tom standing on the sidelines as Dante draws Vera into his lap and regals them all with the story of their engagement.

Tom bears the talking for as long as he can before going outside. As he's standing out on the balcony with a book on legilimency she'd given him earlier that night, he overhears talking in the study, the smell of cigar smoke wafting out to his position below.

"Well you know how it looks, don't you?"

"I trust her Matteo. That's all I need to know."

"But you do know how it looks, with the way she is, hanging around with a boy like that."

"Vera _is_ not that way anymore. We are engaged, finally, and I will not listen to whatever silly rumors our British friends were making up earlier tonight."

"Dante, I have known you for all the years you have been in love with her, and I have never seen you look at another boy like that, not even Nico."

"Like what?"

"Like you are actually jealous. Like you think he really stands a chance."

His boisterous laughter bounces off the crystal chandeliers and oak bookshelves, "You think I'm afraid of losing her to him? You don't need to know Vera as well as I do to know she would never be interested in someone like that. Let her have her charity case, he makes for a good laugh anyway."

* * *

><p>She sets up separate rooms for everyone that night and sends all the boys up, including Dante to his obvious chagrin. Tom figures he will stay the night and apparate back to town in the morning – he has no interest in speaking to these boys any longer, much less participating in some barbaric and useless hunt.<p>

To his surprise, her little white owl lands on his window perch. The small note attached to it simply reads, _"I can't sleep."_

He smirks and writes back, _"It usually helps to put your quill down and lay in bed."_

Only a minute or so later, he receives a response,_ "Well that didn't work. Would you like to come and help?"_

He's surprised, but he wants her so badly, especially now that she is actually being nice to him. He wishes she would always act the way she acts to him when they are outside of school. But perhaps that was Dante's point. For a while, Vera had actually managed to fool him into thinking she cared about him or liked him or something like that.

As he had to remind himself now, Vera Sinclair did not have emotions. She did not like people. She was not nice to people without reason. She used people. That was who she was. That was who she had been for the previous seven years he had known her, and he did not want to be foolish enough to believe anything else, no matter how tempting it was to do so when she was laughing like that over dinner.

But would it really hurt if he slept with her again? He was aching for it, he knew. He had run out of the little gold potions a while ago and was unable to sleep again. Touching her had always helped.

So he stood and crept down the hallways, intending not to talk to her. Talking would hurt too much right now. He doesn't know how to describe why, except to say that this big house makes him realize how far away he really is from her.

Her door is unlocked so he just creeps in. She's standing by the window in a short nightgown. He doesn't analyze the expression on her face because he knows doing so will only make him actually feel something for her again, and that is the thing he most wants to avoid now. How had he managed to stuff away feelings for so many years when it seemed like he had so little control over them now?

Tom places a hand on Vera's hip, surprising her. She turns and he instantly kisses her, pushing her against the wall before reaching down to undo his belt. He doesn't want anything long and lavish. He doesn't want to lay her down and enjoy her. He just wants to take what he needs and go to bed alone. He doesn't want to get trapped in her, to need her, again.

She lets him have what he needs, gasping in his ear as she's pushed back into the wall over and over. They both let go and he finds himself stumbling back to the bed with her. She lays next to him and actually touches his face, sweeping his hair back.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with today. I swear I didn't know anyone else would be here," she whispers.

For a second, he feels better. Then he feels the urge to throw up. Why is she being like this? Why is she making him feel like his heart is about to explode, when the ring on her finger very clearly indicates that she doesn't feel the same way?

Tom pushes her hands away, telling her to stop, before he stands to fix his clothes and leave. Vera roles over, clearly surprised, "You don't want to stay?"

"I'm not some charity case for you to fawn over, you know? I'm not disposable just because I'm not rich and I don't go on fucking fox hunts and I'm not part of the circle of vain jerks out there. You can't just ignore me for months and then decide that I am suddenly worthy of entertaining you just because you are bored and alone. I'm not one of your toys to play with and show off. The next time you want someone for that, go ask one of your Gryffindor pets."

She sits up, holding the blanket around her to cover up, "I don't think you are disposable."

"Really? So the second you marry the man you actually claim to love you aren't going to leave me again without even thinking about it?"

She doesn't have anything to say, because they both know what the answer is. As he's dressed again and about to go, she says, "Fine, so I did ask you here because I was lonely. I thought it might actually be nice to spend some time not yelling at each other. But don't pretend you didn't come for the same reason. Don't pretend, with the way you just pushed me against that wall, that I'm not disposable to you. We both know that we are here because we make each other feel a little better, a little less alone and messed up, at least for a little while. Don't pretend that we aren't both here for ourselves."

"And what about this experience is supposed to make me feel better, listening to your fiancé fucking you or being around your pretentious friends?"

He does not even want to start on the painful admission that she is the only person in his life who is not disposable, who he couldn't kill in an instant for no reason. He does not want to admit that he finds himself thinking about her nearly every night and wanting to be beside her. He doesn't want to talk about how what she had said that day in the library had injured him so much that he'd nearly drowned some idiot in the prefect's bathroom afterwards.

He wants her to be his. He's obsessed with it. Maybe it's because she's the smartest person he's ever met. She actually challenges him in wit and manipulation. Maybe it's because she seems to understand him in a way other people don't, to not judge him for the things he does. Maybe it's just because he's used to getting everything he ever wants, and he knows he can't have her because, at the root of it, she and he just live in different worlds. She doesn't belong with him. She belongs with Dante. And they both know that.

Vera actually seems to flinch at his comment. She takes a shallow breath before standing, opening a drawer of her dressing table and drawing out another box of golden vials. She walks over to where he is still standing, dropping the box in front of him. "Here then, feel better. I'll lower the charms on the house if you want to apparate now."

"That was you?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. He hadn't suspected. In hindsight, it should have been obvious – who else would bother with such elaborate wrapping? But then again, to assume it was her, he would have had to assume she actually cared about his well-being.

"Who else would have access to an odd Chinese cure-all?" she retorts, slipping a night robe on before grabbing her wand and taking the protection charms off the manor.

She's fixing her hair in the mirror when he asks, "Is it safe?"

"Good question. I've actually never asked before. It isn't legally sold in Britain, but t's from my own doctor. I'm sure he wouldn't give me anything dangerous. Then again, there was that one time ... But I'm pretty sure that was just a dosing issue."

"Can you be serious?"

"Oh, relax, he's the best doctor this side of the Atlantic. I'm sure it's fine."

He's calmed down. After all, she wasn't the one that said he wasn't good enough for her – not this time at least. He wants to slip back into bed with her, except that it's clear she isn't coming back to bed. In fact, she's twisting the doorknob on her way out of the room, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Dante's room. I trust you can see yourself out. Good night," she says icily without even looking back.

He stands still, looking at her as the door closes. The last thing he sees is the light bouncing off of the ring on her finger that costs more galleons than he's ever had in his life. He could wait for her to come back, but staying will give her the power, and he isn't about to encourage her to embarrass him like that again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Next update coming soon. Your reviews would really help motivate me to finish it ;)


	17. In(evitable)

Vera takes a deep breath before she knocks on the stern grey door at the end of the long hallway. Why is she here again? Merlin, she's never been so afraid to face anyone in her entire life. The door to his room opens and Tom looks predictably unhappy. He tries to close it again but she reaches out to stop him.

"I …" she whispers, unable to actually speak the apology she had practiced on her way here. She knows she drove him away on purpose. She had seen he was going to forgive her for manipulating him into coming, and she was too afraid to wake up next to somebody to allow that to happen. Would it matter what she said anyway? Saying she was sorry for the way she treated him would hardly change the fact of their futures.

"I thought we could play normal for a day. I dressed up for it and everything," she says, gesturing to her ordinary sundress. He isn't sure if he's more offended by the fact that she thinks he'll just forgive her or the fact that she thinks his actual life is just a game to slip into with something so simple as a change of clothing.

Tom just scoffs, "I don't want to play normal."

Vera maintains her confident demeanor, "Come on, I'll take you out to lunch. We can go absolutely anywhere you want."

He smirks, "Leave or I'll show you just how _abnormal_ I am."

She sees that he's annoyed and tries a different approach, "I know I can be a brat…"

A soft chuckle breaks through the distance between them, "Understatement of the century."

"Come let me make up for it and I'll tell Kettleburn that the broom closet fire was my fault so he'll give you your Care of Magical Creatures points back," Vera says, referring to the fact that he'd decided to burn the brooms rather than put them away after the class they had taught.

He just shrugs, "That _was_ your fault for making me deal with those sniveling first-years."

She returns his smirk, "We both know you're still behind in every subject, just take this one pity victory."

"Not potions. Or did Slughorn not tell you he docked you for using potions outside of class?"

"So Slughorn has a huge crush on you. Doesn't mean your lead will last."

"I think your problem is actually that Slughorn is not all too fond of you."

"Maybe not but he is fond of the prospect of adding a future minister of magic to his deck, and you don't want to work for the ministry, which only leaves him with one person to turn to."

"Oh, right, isn't Dante perfect? Except that I'm guessing he's not because then you wouldn't have shagged me."

She glares at him and simply says, "Don't. If you're mad at me, be mad at me. But don't bring him into it."

"Why not? You do all the time. You didn't think you were bringing him into it when you left last night or when you just mentioned him?"

"It isn't his fault. He isn't like us."

He knows what she means but he wishes he didn't. Dante has a family that loves him. He doesn't play with other people's feelings. He actually cares about people. And this somehow makes him special, it makes him exempt from their hatred. To her, Dante is good. They aren't. Tom isn't, and he can never be. He can never be right for her.

"Then go back to your knight in shinning armor. It shouldn't be hard. After all, it didn't mean anything, right? You never actually felt anything for me anyway, did you?

She stares at him and swallows the lump in her throat. She wants to agree, even though they both know it isn't true at this point. She had come back for him. She had pretended to have injured her ankle and rode back to change into this stupid old dress and come here, a place she had never imagined entering in her whole life. She's too afraid of the power it will give him if she admits it out loud. He's turned her own strategy against her.

She forces a tight smile, "Of course not."

"Great, I'll make sure to tell him that next time I see him. You know, after I regale him with the story of how you fucked me and then went to go sleep next to him."

"Tom…" she warns, glaring at him. He knows he has far passed the line on what he's allowed to say.

"Judging by the way he tried to scare me off yesterday, I'd say he's under no delusions about what you are really up to. Though if he has actually convinced himself that your hallow joke of an I love you is true, he deserves an award for being the first person to commit legilimency on themselves."

She shakes her head at him, "He didn't do anything to you. But go ahead, tell him. The first thing he'll do is tell you how silly you are for thinking you can change things. What do you imagine is going to happen, he's going to call off the engagement, he's going to let Nico have me? What can you matter to him, when he's already going to force me to go to Italy anyway?"

He would be angry, he would tell her how Dante had practically called him trash, except that he really only remembers one word, "Italy?"

Maybe it had been naive that he had thought things wouldn't really change once she was married. It made sense that she'd have to move, but did it need to be to somewhere so far away that he couldn't even apparate there?

Her expression shows him that he wasn't supposed to know. He had just had her for the first time in months and now she had accidentally told him there was a time limit. Before he knew that he could afford to argue, to prove a point about the way he isn't going to be treated by her. Now he has a little over two months before she is gone, probably forever.

"You can't," Tom says, breath caught in his throat. He doesn't know why that's all he can say. He has so much more on his mind. She is his last thread to humanity, perhaps the only one he's ever really had.

"I wish I couldn't," she says, and he can tell she is somewhere on the brink of tears too. Perhaps it is not him she wants but it is not this either. She looks up at him, blinking rapidly, and just says, "Can we play normal for a day?"

He takes her hand and pulls her into his room. She isn't wearing her ring. For once she feels fragile and small in his arms instead of perfect and scary, like she is seconds away from breaking. They're just teenagers. Teenagers shouldn't have to deal with these kinds of things, with affairs and moving to other countries and splitting off parts of their soul and carrying the weight of the world they wish existed on their shoulders.

* * *

><p>They are walking along a cliff, staring down at a dark ocean. April isn't exactly the best time to visit the seaside, but he remembers sometimes feeling calm here, and it is nice to be somewhere where the waves help cover the silence between them.<p>

She turns up the path to the little town nearby and says, "This is where you wanted to go for lunch?"

"They used to take us here sometimes on trips. It's … peaceful," Tom says, hands in his pockets as he stares down at the ground.

Vera smiles, "My father took me here once. There were these few months – or at least it seems like months now, it was probably just a week or two – right before I went to Hogwarts when he decided he actually wanted to be a father. He stopped traveling for the ministry and would take me to all these extraordinarily ordinary places in England. We came here and he bought me cotton candy. It's such a small thing, but I remember it so well, because he didn't sneer and call it a silly muggle thing or common food, he just bought it for me right off one of the little carts near this path. But then the war started to brew and he went back to work and instead of coming back from some stupid safari in Africa my mother had a new nanny drop me off for Hogwarts. It's funny how when you remember them the good things seem better and the bad things just seem more banal."

Did it seem more banal to Tom that he had killed his own father now that over a year had passed? He didn't particularly like Ms. Cole but at least there had been someone that wasn't a stranger to drop him off at King's Cross. He wipes this from his mind as he remembers that today they have agreed not to dwell on their problems and tries to approximate normal teenage conversation instead.

"I'm still getting over the fact that you ate street food," he responds with a small smile, "and yet you stand up in a rage whenever they serve fish and chips in the Great Hall."

"Hey, I was 11! My tastes were not quite refined yet," she responds, playfully hitting his arm. "And I'm not even that picky. There is just something about the smell of mushy peas that I find utterly revolting."

"You aren't picky? How many times were you late for patrols because you had to have the house elves make you something different for dinner?" Tom asks, looking at her with a raised eyebrow as they arrive in the town square

She rolls her eyes and gestures to the restaurants around them, "I'll prove it to you. I'll eat anything you pick for lunch."

"Even if it's fish and chips?"

"Please do not joke about the worst food in the universe."

"But it sounds so appealing right now."

"If you do, I'll eat just about one chip. Do you want me to starve?"

"Ehh, it wouldn't hurt," he jokes, actually smiling at her. She hits him again and this time he catches her hand and holds it, "There's only one shop open by the looks of it anyway and it's pizza. Does that seem like something you can stand to eat?"

"I told you, I am not that picky."

"Yes, you are. You insist on only eating symmetrical muffins."

"That's just an odd phobia or something," she says defensively as they enter the shop.

"You're afraid of asymmetric muffins? You're telling me that all this time I could have just incapacitated you with breakfast food during any duel?"

* * *

><p>They finish eating lunch and then she insists on dragging him into an ice cream shop despite the fact that it's too cold for ice cream. Afterward, she leads him up a side staircase, which is a curiosity but not a particularly uncommon one for Vera. She finishes her cone before opening a door at the end of a narrow landing.<p>

"I bought it after third year with my birthday money. I had this silly idea that I'd run away here if my parents said one more insufferable thing to me. That didn't turn out to be so practical, but it's a nice little escape. That's why it was such an odd coincidence that you apparated us here," she says, stepping aside to let him pass into a very small flat.

There's barely enough room for a day bed and a desk stacked high with papers and books. There's a small kitchen with a kettle on the stove to the side and a door to what he assumes is the restroom. He wanders over to the desk and flips through some pages of sketches and writings before she stops him.

"Those are just some silly things I wrote," she says while turning most of the papers over.

"I hardly think the writings of someone who is top of her class at Hogwarts can be silly," Tom says, flipping through the last few pages he has in his hands and finding two interesting essays – "On Flying Unassisted" and "On Reanimation."

"They're mostly just ridiculous stories. _Frivolous_ stories," Vera nearly spits out the word and he assumes what that must mean. She takes the last few from him and shoves them all in a drawer. She tries to smile again, "Anyway, I likely won't be top of my class any longer soon. I'm sure you've already started on your reading for next term."

"Already finished it actually."

"Really?" She asks, eyebrow raised, mischievous smirk plastered on her face, "Then it seems like you could teach me a thing or two."

"It would be nice to get something in exchange," he responds with a matching smirk. He leans down and kisses her, pushing her back toward the bed, but he is determined to enjoy it this time. He kisses her slowly, lips lingering on hers as he waits for her to pull away. He half hesitates as he reaches for her clothing and she fumbles with his, but he keeps going, slow and steady, taking his time and trying to remember every second of it.

* * *

><p>They are laying in bed afterward, exchanging wandless magic tricks. He manages to levitate the little porcelain doll that was sitting on her fireplace over and make it dance in midair. She laughs and shoots a rainbow of sparks around the doll before changing the color of it's dress and hair. He drops it as she gets up to get some water, picking up the book at the end of the bed and flipping through it's contents casually – he isn't particularly interested in troll rebellions – until she returns.<p>

As he takes a sip of water she catches sight of his watch. Her eyes dart outside, surprised to find that it is getting dark. She stands and starts getting dressed in a hurry, opening a small closet in hopes of finding a decent outfit.

"I'm almost late for dinner. Merlin, he's going to murder me for forgetting to tell the cook not to use red wine sauce again," Vera says as she fixes her hair in a small mirror on her desk.

She bounces back to Tom, to his surprise kissing him quickly before putting on her shoes, "I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly. You can stay as long as you like. There should even be something decent to eat somewhere in the kitchen. I'll see you for patrols on the train back?"

He frowns, knowing that she is likely busy spending the rest of the week planning her wedding, "I already scheduled the fifth- and sixth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs for patrols on the train."

"Wonderful. So our first meeting with Slughorn then?"

She doesn't wait for him to answer, to point out that after that he thought he would be seeing her somewhere other than patrols and stuffy classrooms. She is halfway out the door and he wants to ask her to stay, but that would be like asking the sun to stay after a long rainstorm. It may seem like a good idea at first, but what makes a mere mortal think they have the right to ask the sun for anything?

He lays in bed for a while and thens stands to dig through her papers again, finding the essays that interest him and folding them into his pocket.

* * *

><p>Dante watches her as she gets ready for bed, suspiciously devoid of any pain in the ankle she had supposedly sprained that morning. The manor is quite and everyone else is gone. She's been distant, to the point that he'd woken up without her again that morning. His joy at her unexpected visit had been all but crushed at the discovery of her unexpected exit, and he wondered if he would again wake up to an empty space next to him.<p>

She lays down, smiling briefly and kissing him before turning away.

"Darling, can we talk about something?" He asks cautiously, reaching for her hand.

Vera turns to face him but barely opens her eyes, "I'm tired, can't it wait until the morning?"

"It can't. Please just give me a minute love." She opens her eyes and smiles up at him again, reaching her other hand up to push the hair out of his face. He takes a breath before he continues, "I know you want to stay in England and I want to make you happy any way – every way – I can. The real reason I arrived in London early was because I had an interview with the Ministry of Magic yesterday morning. They offered me the position but I need to notify them by tomorrow at noon whether I wish to accept it."

She's stunned. Suddenly, Italy does not need to be a reality. Suddenly, she does not have to leap into something she isn't ready for. Suddenly, she doesn't have to face a whole unfamiliar world. It can still be her world.

"The position would be in the international magical law department within the foreign affairs office. I know we agreed not to depend on your parents for anything, and I know that's your father's office, but we'd only be working together indirectly at best. It would probably take me a few more years to build a career, but I'd still be able to run for office eventually and we could live in this house like you want. Vera, you know I'll give you anything you want," Dante says, half desperate and half hopeful. He cannot stand her coldness anymore, cannot stand wondering who she is spending her nights with if it isn't him.

Just as quickly as she felt the elation of being free of a life she does not want, Vera realizes that the life she does want is not even an option, no matter how determined Dante is to make it one. He doesn't really want this and she isn't going to force him to try his luck somewhere else when he has already guaranteed fame and glory for them in Italy. To stay is to take a huge chance not only on his career but also on their marriage. He will always be bitter towards her for keeping him from what he really wants. And if she stays here, in London, minutes away from Tom, she knows she will be putting her entire future in danger. Besides, if they stay, her father will always be able to attribute their success to his own patronage, and she nearly gags at that very thought.

If there is one thing her parents have thought her, it is the necessity of sacrifice. Being in their position, enjoying the luxuries and responsibilities that they did, meant sacrificing any chance for a normal life. In her anger, she had very briefly been selfish enough to forget that she could not yield to her emotions as anyone else would. It did not matter if she loved Italy or even if she loved Dante. Feelings were trivial things compared to fortunes and legacies, and that was what was really at stake as soon as she'd put this ring on.

Vera smiles genuinely at him now that she has reconciled her choices and accepted her faith, "Well the problem with that is that I'll give you anything you want too love. I know Italy is where we will build our future together. It will be wonderful to have a change of scenery, and to be able to be with you always."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hello lovelies! Sorry for the wait, my laptop broke right after posting the last chapter so I couldn't get this one up until it was fixed. Glad to be writing again! There's like seven chapters left in this story and I am rushing to finish them, but I keep getting all these tangent ideas about things that happen after the original story I planned is over so you all might get a bonus chapter containing Sirius Black and the Death Eaters.

I'll try to post again within a week, just debating whether or not to include some parts of the next chapter. Reviews or PMs about the story would really help nag me into keeping to that deadline, specifically ones about what you think of Dante's characterization :)


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